#for personal reasons i will be passing away

[sunrizef1]

The Alchemy

Pairing: Logan sargeant x singer!reader

Warnings: Cursing

Authors note: recently realized that every time i include Logan in a fic, he gets points. That is me manifesting xx Not edited, ill edit later. Very loosely based on the alchemy by Taylor swift. This album has me in a chokehold. Also!! Tysm for 1k, I’ve been trying to think of something to do for that xx

Word count: 7.6k (took way too long, thanks Tay)

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“Do you want to go to the f1 race in Miami? Ferrari invited you.”

Your head snaps to your publicist who tilts her head with a questioning look on her face. You set your guitar down, putting an end to your idle strumming. It rests on top of your notebook filled with random lyrics and doodles.

“I didn’t know I was allowed to do that,” you reply, laying back onto the couch you were sat on, shifting to sit in the seat more comfortably.

Your publicist, Aimee, rolls her eyes at your response, clicking away quickly on her phone, “I mean, you’re one of the biggest stars in the world, you could technically do whatever you wanted. It’s just never been in your image to go to sports or whatever. But everyone is gonna be there.”

There it is, the real reason you’d be allowed to go to a race was to be amongst the famous people that Aimee would, no doubt, want you to mingle with. Mingling wasn’t your strong suit.

“Ill think about it,” you give her a tight-lipped smile which she hums in response to, sliding out of the room without another glance at you.

The second she's gone, you collapse against the leather couch, eyes locked onto the ceiling of your studio.

The real reason you wanted to think about going to the race wasn't because Aimee only wanted you to go to get good pr but, instead, it was because of your own personal connection with one of the drivers.

You'd met Logan a year ago at the previous Miami Grand Prix. Noone knew you were there and you had intended to keep it that way before you ran into the driver.

You got in fairly easy, Mercedes VIP pass wrapped around your neck. You were close friends with Lewis who promised he could get you in and out with it still remaining a secret. You had your jacket hood up above your head, hair pulled back away from your face and a pair of sunglasses resting on your nose.

You hadn't thought about how many people you knew would be there. Your eyes stayed trained on the ground for the most part, hoping that it you didn't look up, no one you knew would notice you.

Because you weren't looking where you were going, you didn't see yourself run straight into a taller figure, landing against his hard chest.

Both of you stumble back a bit from the impact and you immediately open your mouth to apologize to the man in front of you but when you look up, the words die in your throat. Your eyes trace the features of the blond man, soaking up every little detail of his pretty face. You can tell he's muscular through his blue t-shirt and your breath catches slightly.

He's speechless when he sees you as well but for a completely different reason. You may not have been in your flashiest clothes or have your usual makeup or hair but anyone with a brain could recognize you if they actually bothered to look. Your music had been everywhere for so long and Logan would be lying if he said he hadn't had a crush on you for the longest time.

When you look up at his face and see him gaping slightly in an attempt to make sure you're actually you, you grasp his hand and start to pull him along before he can blow your cover. You pull him along until you reach a quiet corner, quickly pushing him away from the eyes of other people.

He leans against the wall behind him, crossing his toned arms across his chest and you find yourself gazing again.

“So,” he starts, voice filled with humor, “What is Americas sweetheart doing at a Formula 1 race... Undercover?”

You roll your eyes but cant help the grin that starts to form from the mans words, “I'm not actually supposed to be here.”

“Oh and that's why I got dragged into a dark corner?” the man asks, grin splitting his pretty face.

You laugh but don't catch the pleased look on the man's face, “Yeah, sorry about that. Didn't want anyone to, I don't know, mob me or something.”

“I get it,” when he says it, you can't help but believe he really does get it for some reason. For all you knew, this man might just work PR for…you glance down at his t-shirt to check, Williams Racing!

“Well, thank you for cooperating…?”

The man raises his eyebrows at your questioning tone, “Logan.”

“Thank you for cooperating Logan. I know a lot of people that probably would've fought me for grabbing them like that.”

Logan laughs, head leaning back against the wall gently as the noise leaves his throat, “Its no problem. Are you in the Mercedes garage today?”

You nod at his words, glancing back out to make sure the both of you are still hidden from the outside, “Lewis said he could sneak me in.”

“He didn't do a very good job, then. If I found you out,” Logan grins, leaning away from the wall.

“Maybe not. But you're not gonna tell, are you?” you tilt your head teasingly at the blond, eyes crinkling with the weight of your smile.

He laughs again, sticking his pinky out between the two of you, “I won't, pinky promise.”

You giggle and Logan decides its the only noise he cares to hear from now on. You stick your hand out as well, wrapping your pinky around his and the two of you just stand there for a second, gazing toward the other.

But eventually, both of you seem to remember that there were time-sensitive events about to happen just about 10 meters from where you're stood. You break away from him, smile stuck on your features.

He walks away first, his grin replicating yours. He turns toward you as he walks away, pulling a hand up to wave goodbye slightly as he slides out of the corner.

“See you later, y/n,” he smirks before disappearing from view and something in you tells you you will be seeing him later.

You hurry to the Mercedes garage, having told Lewis you were there 15 minutes ago. He ushers you into his drivers room, telling you that you could chill there until the race started, only a slight bit of concern for your previous whereabouts written on his face. You don’t tell him you think you’d just fallen in love with some random teams random employee, deciding that was a bit too off topic for the currently rushing Lewis who was practically running around his room trying to get his stuff together. He wasn’t stressed since he was, of course, Lewis Hamilton, but this was the most frazzled you’d seen him

“Ill be back before the race starts,” Lewis nods toward you while he opens the door, things clutched in his tattooed hands.

“Have fun, Lew!” you call out, collapsing against his couch the moment he leaves.

You pass the time scrolling through your phone, scribbling random lyrics into your notes app and trying not to fall asleep. Lewis comes back quick enough, sneaking you into the garage with your hood pulled tightly over your hair and sunglasses sat firmly on your face.

No one spares you a second glance and if they do, they know better than to question Lewis Hamilton.

Your eyes are drawn to one of the screens above you, the drivers all stood out in a line together for the national anthem and your eyebrows raise when they land on a certain blond man. Right in front of your eyes, Logan is stood in Williams blue and white next to his teammate as the national anthem plays behind them.

Oh, that cheeky bastard.

Well, at least you now knew where to find him after the race. When the race starts, you try your hardest to stay focused on the Mercedes and cheer for Lewis but you can’t help but let your eyes trace the path of a certain blue car instead.

When the race ends and Logan’s in p8, you find yourself anxiously waiting for Lewis to get back so you can dip. You bounce passively on your heels, fingers picking at the fraying edge of your jacket. The Miami sun beats down relentlessly, making sure you stay safely in the shaded garage.

Lewis gets back quick enough, having not been on the podium this race. You give him a quick hug and a congratulations, telling him you’ll text him if you ended up wanting to get dinner later. You didn’t give him a concrete dinner plan since you had a feeling you’d be busy later.

You practically sprint out of the garage in your effort to find Logan before he leaves, missing the confused look you leave on Lewis’ face as he watches you run.

You honestly had no idea where the Williams garage was but when you see the familiar blue, you stop in your tracks outside the exit. You lean on the wall just outside the door, hoping no one will see you as they leave.

A driver in orange passes you, Oscar maybe, giving you a perplexed look as he walks by. You just dip your head farther, hoping he didn’t recognize you. Or worse, think you’re some kind of stalker.

But before the kid can call any security or ask you for a picture, a familiar laugh sounds out as someone opens the door next to you. You glance up and see Logan exiting and you reach over and grasp his wrist. Logan looks up to see you, his infinite smile seemingly stretching even wider as he see your concealed state.

“Hi, y/n,” he laughs dopily, abandoning whoever he’d been walking out with. You glance over his shoulder to see Oscar with his eyebrows furrowed and you pray any of his concern had disappeared when he saw Logan’s positive reaction.

“Hi, Logan,” you smile back, pulling him away from the garage and hopefully away from anyone at all, ending up in a corner not dissimilar to the what you had pushed him into earlier that day, “Congrats on the points. Can’t believe I thought you worked PR or something.”

He grins again, carding a hand through his sweaty hair. Your eyes trace the fireproofs he hadn’t taken off yet, trying not to ogle the muscles under the shirt.

“Thanks, I’m pretty sure both parts of those are compliments?” your eyes snap back to his and away from his chest. You can tell from the smirk on his face, he had noticed your stare and you try your best to control your blush.

As you two stand in the corner quietly for a moment, you’re surprised when Logan’s the one to break the silence.

“Do you want to get dinner later?” Your eyebrows shoot up in shock at his confidence but they quickly settle as you smile softly.

“I’d love to.”

Logan grins once again, shoulders obviously relaxing at your response, “My phones in my room… or I’d get your number.”

You laugh slightly as he leans back against the wall behind him, his own blush covering his cheeks as you giggle.

“I’ll go with you,” you state simply, shrugging your shoulders and watching as his own eyebrows raise.

“You sure?”

You laugh as he leans closer to you, “yeah I’m sure, Logan. I’ll give you my number and you can send me dinner plans and we can have a great time. Celebrate your win.”

“I didn’t win,” Logan’s face looks somewhere between a grimace and a smile. His hands moved to wrest against his hips. Right where his race suit was also sat.

“You got points. Close enough to a win in my book,” you shrug, smiling big.

Logan laughs loudly, head leaning back against the brick wall behind him and your own laugh joins his, creating a chorus of joy that wasn’t to common on these parts of the paddock.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll text you then. Come on, I need to shower,” he says to you, returning the previous favor by grasping your wrist in his and pulling you along to his drivers room. When he starts walking, you slide your wrist out of his grasp and intertwine your fingers instead, pretending not to see the grin that splits his face.

When you get to his room, you quickly put your number in his phone before exiting. As much as you wish you could’ve stayed, you had places to be and if you were going on a date, you'd need a few hours.

Logan texts you the minute you're in the car back to your place and you grin stupidly at the words on your screen, texting back quickly.

The date goes well, Logan being a perfect gentleman the whole time. He had picked a nice steakhouse he had no doubt been to a couple times growing up, considering you knew how he’d grown up. You had definitely not pulled his Wikipedia up the second your feet hit the floor of your room.

He sips his wine passively, much more interested in the stories you were telling about being on tour and the time one of your backup dancers had accidentally hooked up with one of the drivers. He offers to cut your steak for you and you let him, simply because none of your ex’s would have ever done something as small as that. He reads the dessert menu to you, asking the waiter for a second fork when you order the chocolate cake despite your objections about having your own slice. You both laugh but you shake your head when he offers to get a different piece. He picks up the bill despite your protests, sliding his card into the check and handing it back before you can even attempt to grab it from him. Then he walks you back to the car, arm around your shoulders as you try not to trip in your heels. When he drops you off, he moves to walk away from your doorstep but you’re quick to grasp his wrist, pulling him in and slamming the door behind the both of you.

That had been a year ago and you were still in love with Logan.

A year of Logan sneaking you in and out of the garage and a year of coincidentally scheduling tour shows to line up with race weekends. You’d released two albums about him. Not even your own manager knew who the songs were about. The only person who knew about the relationship was Lewis, who figured it out pretty quickly when you didn’t text him to get dinner that very first night. He was actually quite helpful in getting you in and out of the paddocks all across the world. He was pretty private to begin with so no one asked him many questions about where he was sneaking off to.

It’s not that you didn’t want to world to know about your relationship. It’s more that it was nice to have something you loved be private for once. Every boyfriend you’d ever had was inevitably mobbed by fans every time they stepped outside. Not that you were too empathetic. Half of your ex’s were contractually obligated to date you by your agency and the other half just sucked as people.

Logan was the first boyfriend you truly loved and got to choose to be with every day. Also, if your agency found out you’d secretly been dating someone and sneaking around for a year, you’d never hear the end of it and you’d probably get dropped for breach of contract, or whatever.

You didn’t tell anyone else on the grid. You would've but Logan dissuaded you after telling you that none of them could keep a secret for their lives.

So, the second Aimee left the room, your first calls is to Logan.

“Hey baby,” Logans voice echoes across the phone. You can hear a bit of exhaustion in his voice and recall him telling you he was about to work out, “Whats up?”

You can't help the heat that rises to your cheeks at even his simplest words, “Hey, are you free to talk?”

“Yeah, yeah, just finished working out with Benny,” He replies, and you car hear the beep of a car unlocking and the door opening before closing, “Everything okay?”

You hum, shifting in your seat, “Yeah, I'm fine. Aimee just asked if I wanted to go to the Miami gp with Ferrari.”

There's a few seconds of silence from Logans end of the phone before he responds, “Do you want to?”

“It’d be nice to go and not have to hide in the back of Mercedes,” you sigh, weighing the pros and cons, “But I don't want to go with Ferrari.”

“You can't pick the garage?”

“I’ll try but I feel like Aimee will just stick me in whatever garage she wants me in,” you sigh again, sinking dejectedly into the couch, “Not sure I'd get much of a choice.”

“I’d love to have you there,” you can hear the slight smile in his voice and you laugh warmly despite your previous annoyance.

“Ill try and convince her. I'll see you there Logan,” you smile, sitting up in your seat. You fiddle with a piece of your hair, glancing around the small room you're in. You weren't super confident you could convince Aimee but if Logan wanted you there, you'd try your hardest to get in the Williams garage.

Logan laughs, “See you there, babe. Love you.”

“Love you too,” Logan hangs up and you smile, tossing your phone down next to you. You're quick to pick it back up though, texting Aimee to ask if you can be in the Williams garage instead.

When the day of the Miami GP arrives and your stood in the Williams garage, its as much of a surprise to you as it is to everyone else. You had spent the past month trying to convince Aimee to let you sit in Williams instead of Ferrari. She had spent the past month telling you that it’d be better for your image to be in Ferrari.

You hadn't told Logan you’d be in his garage since, until that morning, you didn’t know you would be. You weren’t initially sure what made her change her mind but when you entered the garage and saw several celebrities almost more famous than yourself, it made sense. Of course she’d only agree to get you to be seen interacting with more a-listers. Jokes on her, though, because instead of staying in the garage for the next few hours, you decided to walk around. You were actually hoping to find Lewis in something other than a dark corner for once.

On the other side of the paddock, Logan had ended up in Ferraris hospitality after Oscar had dragged him along to meet up with Lando who was meeting up with Carlos who was meeting up with Charles who was meeting up with Max. So, in the end, Logan felt out of his element.

He chair sat slightly away from the others as they all talked about Miami, a place that Logan honestly didn’t have much to say about anymore. Maybe if someone asked, he’d say something. But he honestly wasn’t feeling it. He’d be more enthused if you were stood in his garage instead of Charles’, cheering him on. But, no, Aimee had you stuck in the red and yellow.

“Did you guys hear that y/n l/n is here?” A Spanish accent rings out from across the little circle of chairs, causing Logan’s head to snap up.

Lando’s head shoots up as well, eyes locking onto Carlos’, “You’re kidding! I love her!”

Carlos nods his head at the Brit, grinning widely, “Yeah, I heard some engineers talking about her earlier!”

Max snorts, shaking his head in disbelief, “If she was here, one of us would’ve seen her already. She’s not in either of our garages,” Max gestures between him and Charles who’s sat with an agreeable look on his face, nodding at Max’s words.

“I’m gonna ask around. If she’s here there’s no way I’m not giving her my number,” Lando laughs, already looking around for someone to interrogate. Logan has to hold himself back from rolling his eyes. Although it was weird Charles hadn’t seen you. Maybe he’d just left before you’d arrived.

“You sure she’s even single, mate?” Oscar asks the brunette man, laughing slightly as he turns around toward the Aussie with a smirk on his face.

“She hasn’t been seen with anyone in like a year and a half and there’s definitely no shortage of men in love with her. I’m about to jump on that before anyone else here snatches her up,” Lando laughs again, standing up from his chair quickly almost as if he’s about to sprint out but suddenly Lewis appears beside the little group, catching Lando before he can.

“What are you guys doing?” Lewis asks with a raised eyebrow, eyes surveying the group before they stop on Logan. Logan glances away from the older man quickly, choosing instead to stare at the ground.

“Talking about y/n l/n. Apparently she’s here and Landos so in love with her that he’s about to sprint out and find her. I’d want her number too but Lando seems more passionate,” Carlos laughs and Charles nods along with a grin. Lewis’ eyes land back on Logan with a small smirk gracing his features.

“Yeah but we’re not sure she’s even here, we all think she would’ve been in one of our garages if she was here,” Max continues, gesturing toward his fellow drivers. Logan has a sneaking suspicion he meant every garage beside Williams.

Logan grins again, pushing Lando softly back into his seat. Logan can feel the man’s gaze on his lowered head as he respond, “Well, she’s is here. She’s in the Williams garage.”

With that, Logan’s head snaps up to meet Lewis eyes and the eyes of all the other drivers move quickly toward Logan who’s too busy looking at Lewis to sink under their piercing gazes.

“She’s looking for you,” Lewis nods at Logan who’s quickly to stand from his seat, six pairs of eyes on his back as he turns away.

“Shit,” he mumbles under his breath as he starts to walk away from the group, his movements quickly turning into a run.

Back in the little circle, Lando sits with a pouty look on his face while everyone besides Lewis sits with incredulous looks on their faces. Lewis sits proudly, a small smirk on his face. Oscar is the one to break the silence.

“What the fuck just happened?”

Logan reaches the garage quick enough, hearing whispers of your name echo between engineers and PR workers alike, all mumbling about your surprising presence in the garage.

He jogs lightly over to Alex, slinging an arm around the taller drivers shoulders. The man turns away from the conversation he was having with Lily, furrowing an eyebrow at the weirdly exhausted American.

“What’s up mate?”

“Have you seen y/n?” Logan says through labored breaths, eyes tracing every corner of the building in search of a sign of you.

Alex shakes his head, glancing back toward his girlfriend, both with matching confused looks on their faces, “Nah mate, apparently we’ve just missed her.”

Logan groans dramatically, sliding away from Alex and moving toward the exit once again, correctly assuming you must be looking for Lewis. Alex turns back to Lily whose confusion mirrors his.

“What was that about?”

“No idea.”

Logan’s once again jogging through the paddock in search of you, praying he gets there before Lando can thoroughly weird you out or flirt enough to give you trauma.

His heads bowed to shield himself from the Miami heat so he doesn’t see himself run straight into someone. He reaches out to catch whoever he’s just thrown toward the ground and when he looks up he’s met with your pretty face. He’s honestly never been more relieved to see someone.

“Hi,” you smile softly as he leans you back to standing, arms still wrapped gently around your torso.

“Hi,” he laughs, out of breath from his jog. You both stand and stare in each others eyes for a moment, adoration in the air between you.

“That felt quite familiar,” you break the trance, laughing as his arms finally move away from you in order to keep a little decorum.

Logan barks a laugh, hand moving to run through his blonde hair as he glances toward the ground abashedly, “Yeah, except this time, you’re not pulling me into a dark corner.”

You glance around at the bustling people around you, realizing how little you cared about people seeing you interact. A weight feels like it’s been lifted off your shoulders at the fact you don’t have to hide your conversations around here anymore. It actually felt quite freeing.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” you reply, smiling as sunlight hits the side of your face, eyes not catching the loving stare Logan is sending your way as you bask in the Miami sun.

Logan grins, eventually pulling you away from the sun as he grasps your wrist. You lean into his side slightly, keeping a reasonable distance for people to think you’re just close friends. You’d already talked about how mad your agency would be if they found out you were dating. So you both agreed interactions in the paddock would be kept to platonic.

But as much as you tried to keep them so, you could only do so much. It was hard to keep the love out of your eyes as you stared at Logan, eyes tracing the side of his face. Anyone with eyes could see how gently he held you, with all the love and care in the world.

As you arrived back at the Williams garage, Logan kept walking and pulled the two of you back into his room as quietly as he could. Shutting the door gently behind him. As soon as the doors closed, your hand is wrapping around the side of his face and pulling him down to meet him in a gentle kiss.

He smiles into it, arms wrapping around your shoulders as you walk the two of you back to the couch, both flopping down onto it. You lean back against the arm rest as he lays against your chest, the exhaustion of a race weekend finally catching up with him.

“Go to sleep baby,” you say quietly, fingers carding through his sun-bleached hair, “You’ve got more than a few hours. I’ll wake you up when someone comes to get you.”

Logan hums half-heartedly, eyes already closing as he shifts to sit against you more comfortably, sleep quickly overtaking him. You scratch his head passively as he sleeps, almost petting him as if he was a golden retriever. You slide your phone open, mumbling lyrics and rhythms under your breath. You mange to type a few verses into your phone with one hand, occasionally having to pull your other hand away from his head momentarily. Every time you did, though, he’d shift in his sleep and your hand would go right back.

It’s a few hours of this before anyone comes to disrupt his nap, the door sliding open without a knock. Your eyes catch Alex’ and you quickly raise your hand with a shushing motion, gesturing down at the man sleeping on top of you. Although, Alex seems more preoccupied with your presence than Logan’s sleeping state, mouth dropping open as he takes in you and his teammates predicament.

“The team needs Logan, they’re about to start getting ready,” Alex manages to spit out, eyes still bouncing between the two of you. You nod, moving one hand to tap at Logan’s face lightly. The man groans through his tiredness, eyes cracking open slowly.

“Teams getting ready, they need you,” you smile down at him. He glances up at you with a small smile, eventually rolling off of you to stand up with a yawn.

Only then do his eyes catch on his teammate stood by the door, shock and confusion lacing his figure. Logan just waves slightly, drowsiness still fogging his mind. Alex blinks, arms frozen to his side.

When Logan grabs his stuff and steps out of the small room, stopping to give you a kiss on his way out, Alex finally snaps out of his haze.

“What the hell, man?” Alex manages to spit out.

Logan yawns as he walks by his teammate, a hand reaching up to rub the sleep out of his eyes, “Huh?”

Alex splutters through his words incredulously, “Why were you sleeping on top of y/n l/n? One of the biggest stars in the world was just hanging out in your room!?”

Logan hums, running a hand over the lines that had appeared on his face during his nap, “That’s my girl, man.”

Alex stops in his tracks, eyes wide and mouth dropped in shock, “What!?”

Logan rolls his eyes at his teammates dramatics, dragging him along next to him and also gesturing for Alex to keep his volume down, “Yeah, we’ve been together for a year and a few months.”

“Mate, what? She’s released like 3 albums in that time,” Alex starts before he seems to come to a realization, eyes snapping back to Logan again, “Oh my god, is reputation about you!?”

When Logan concedes and nods in response, a grin break out on his teammates face, “What about Lover? Or nonsense? Or espresso? Oh my god, so many of her songs must be about you!”

Logan holds back his annoyance, blaming his exasperation on his quite recent wake up call, taking a moment to remind himself that Alex was just surprised. If this had been any other day, he’d take any chance to talk about how cool you were or how much he loved you. But after everything with Landos crush and the boys thinking you’d only ever been seen in their garages, he was honestly annoyed. Not at you, of course, just at how everyone was acting without any tact.

“Yeah, come on, the team needs us,” Logan yawns, dragging his teammate down the hall, the latter still with a stupid grin on his face.

You stepped back into the garage again eventually, eyes scanning the parts of the garage you hadn’t seen before while hidden in the corners. Of course, the Williams garage was completely unfamiliar. But you hoped it wouldn’t be unfamiliar anymore after today.

You can feel the cameras and questioning glances on you, wondering why you’d be at an f1 race, let alone Williams. Everyone thought you’d be in Red Bull or Ferrari or at the least, Alpine, since several of your athlete friends had invested.

You’re not sure what the rules are for drivers going into garages that aren’t theirs but you’re ninety-nine percent sure Lando wasn’t supposed to be here. It didn’t help that he seemed to have dragged Oscar, Max and Charles along with him.

“Oh my god, y/n l/n!” You hear the Brit call out first, giddiness lacing his words. You glance over to see the four drivers approaching, turning your gaze back to the team momentarily to check if this was allowed. There’s uneasy looks on their faces but none of them move to kick them out so you turn back to the quartet.

“Hi?” You smile with a raised eyebrow and you swear you see Lando blush. Oscar rolls his eyes as the older driver starts dramatically fanning himself.

Charles is the first person to respond normally, sticking out his hand as he leans toward you, “It’s nice to meet you, we’re big fans. Some of us obviously more than others.”

You laugh as Charles side-eyes Lando who responds by sticking his tongue out. Their interactions made sense considering you were pretty sure half of them never graduated high school. You reach out and shake Charles’ hand before dropping it as Max reaches out his own.

“I’m Max, not sure how much you know about F1,” Max states, tilting his head. If only he knew just how many races you'd been to.

You nod your head with a small smile, ignoring the way Lando is staring with a dopey look on his face, “Yeah, yeah, I've actually watched a lot of races, so I've seen you win a lot haha.”

Max smirks slightly, shaking his head. Lando frowns as Oscar elbows him and mumbles something under his breath, “She’s never seen you win, mate.”

Your head snaps toward the drivers in papaya as Lando practically tackles Oscar, putting the Aussie in a headlock. You tilt your head toward Charles who’s watching with a frown but makes no effort to separate the pair, “This happen a lot?”

He hums, nodding his head, not taking his gaze away from the thing 1 and thing 2 now on the ground in front of you, “Yeah, they’re like puppies, got to let them get their energy out somehow. No ones been seriously maimed. Yet.”

You snort, finally looking away from the idiots as you hear someone walk up behind you, Charles and Max, the latter turning around as well.

“What the hell are you guys doing?” The commanding voice of the Williams team principal rings out, causing the two mclarens to halt their movements, immediately separating as they stand up.

James surveys the little group for a few moments and you look over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of blond hair before it disappears.

“Now,” James starts, scanning the drivers in front of him, all in varying colors of team shirts, “I could probably get you all in trouble for being in my garage but since I’ve heard a lot of excitement about our guest today, I’ll let it slide.”

You looks back to the man in front of you when you hear a mention of yourself, skin heating as several pairs of eyes all look to you. You look away and back to where you’d seen Logan, hoping for a quick escape. You find him but you watch as he makes eye contact with Lando before turning away as quick as he can. Lando, on the other hand, shoots a hand out to point at the driver, moving forward toward him.

“Logan!” He yells as the aforementioned driver turns away, making himself busy with pretending to be helping Alex, “I need to know what he did to get you in his garage!”

Lando gestures at you before moving to walk past you. He only makes it a few steps before James is stepping in front of him, pushing the lighter man back slightly, “I actually believe you will all be going back to your own garages, yes? It’s almost time for the race.”

Lando frowns with a suspicious look on his face, planting his feet firmly in the ground beneath him as if challenging James to move him. Oscar rolls his eyes before grabbing the brunettes wrist and dragging him out of the room, waving slightly at Logan as he exits.

Charles and Max both wave at you as they leave but Max is the one calling out, “Nice to meet you, y/n.”

You smile at the pair, waving them goodbye. You sigh as you turn around, tiredness filling your face. James stops you before you can stalk off to your seat for the race, hands grasping your shoulders lightly.

“It’s nice to finally meet my drivers girlfriend,” there’s a knowing look on the man’s face and you open your mouth to respond but he beats you to it, “He didn’t tell me. But I saw you two in the hall earlier, the boy had love written on his face, it would’ve been hard to miss.”

You blush, looking down toward the ground with a smile, “Thanks Mr Vowles, it’s nice to meet you as well.”

James laughs, ruffling your hair as he leans away, “Have a fun day, kid. Maybe you’re his lucky charm. And you can call me James.”

You smile as you walk away, smoothing your hair back to place. You weren’t too annoyed by the antics since it was pretty windy anyway, your hair had already been going wild.

“Thanks, James. Good luck, today.”

He just nods in response before slipping away, no doubt to get ready for the race. You turn to talk to Logan but he’s already been swept up in the chaos of the pre-race so you leave him to it, finally making it to your designated seat for the day.

It’s not long before it’s lights out and away we go.

P3. P fucking 3. Logan had just gotten a podium.

You don’t think you’d ever screamed as loud as you had when he crossed the line. Luckily, Alex’ girlfriend, Lily seems just as excited as you, jumping up and down as the team celebrated around you. Fortunately, Alex had had a good race as well, finishing in fifth.

You didn’t bother wiping the tears that were falling from your eyes, too busy trying not to fall over in your expensive heels as Lily dragged you to where the team was meeting at the barriers. Sun shines brightly down on you all, painting your faces with a warming light. Williams employees revel in joy from all around you, pure happiness gracing their usually joy-deprived faces.

The crowd seems to part as you and Lily make your way to the barriers, grasping at each other tightly, trying to make sure this was all real.

Tears stream down your face, no doubt taking your mascara with them. You have to gasp for air more than a couple times, pure elation taking over your breath. You watch as the blue car rolls in front of you, slowing to a stop. Lily hugs your arm tightly, already having heard about your relationship from Alex. You see Alex’ car out of the corner of your eye but you’re too busy trying not to collapse.

Logan steps out of the car, hands visibly shaking. You can practically see the smile through his helmet as he stands on the nose of his car, the crowds of Miami cheering for their hometown hero.

He jumps down and moves to take off his helmet, gloves coming off with them. He glances around at the crowd above him, taking in the moment he gets to be the hero for once, gets to be revered. But his eyes do move away, tracing the crowd for his team.

When his eyes land on yours, another tear slides down your face and drops off into the warm concrete below you. His grin in that moment could move mountains, filled with enough pure joy to heal any aches and pains you’ve ever felt. You can’t look away from his child-like joy, having never seen him this happy in your entire year of dating. His eyes widen with a warmth you wish you could find a way to stay in forever, almost rivaling the warmth of the Miami sun.

Someone from race control tries to get him to go get weighed but he’s dropping his helmet before taking off in a run. He reaches you and before you can even say a word, he’s grasping your face in his hands and leaning down to put his lips against yours, melting into your embrace.

Screams echo around you but all you can hear is the words Logan whispers as he breaks away, leaning his forehead against yours, “I did it, baby.”

You laugh, leaning toward him as he reaches a hand up and wipes away your tears, “Yeah, you did. I’m so proud of you!”

Logan smiles, closing his eyes momentarily to take in the love between you, “Thank you for coming, I love you so much, baby.”

You tilt his head up to catch his lips in another searing kiss, hoping he can feel just how proud and in love with him you are, “I love you too, so, so much.”

You’re both just grasping at each other, praying to be able to simply hold each other for as long as you can before someone pulls him away. Unfortunately, that comes sooner than you’d hoped as someone from race control pulls him away to get weighed. You finally break from the trance he’d put you in, looking around to see Charles and Max staring at Logan as he walks in front of them, glances shared between the pair in p1 and p2.

Lily wraps an arm around you as Alex walks away from her as well and you lean your head on your shoulder, watching as your boyfriends talk after getting weighed, obvious congratulations and pats on the back being shared between the two.

You knew this would make Aimee mad, but you honestly couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You were too busy being young and in love. You could always find a different agency, you were in high demand after all.

Logan’s stood to the side with Alex when Lando walks up, eyebrows furrowed deeply as he surveys the Williams drivers.

“What the hell was that, mate?” Lando calls out to Logan, confusion creeping through his outward disapproval.

Logan laughs at the Brits face, sensing a bit of disappointment in the McLaren drivers demeanor, “The podium?”

Lando rolls his eyes, running a hand through his curls, “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Logan laughs again as Alex throws his arm over the younger drivers shoulder, preparing to steer the two of them to interviews, “Just kissing my girlfriend, mate. Nothing else to it.”

Lando seems to be even more confused as the Williams drivers walk away, although he does eventually manage to shout out a final sentence, “How’d you manage that!?”

Logan practically cackles as Alex snorts, knowing as much as he did that it was a miracle he had pulled you, “I’m not sure either!”

They do eventually make it to interviews and then podium, Logan sending a heart down at you with his hands before Charles and Max turn to him, champagne in hand. Logan stands there and takes it, Miami sunlight bounces off the rivulets of alcohol that cascade across his tanned skin, still hot with the warmth that had infected him during the race.

The next morning, you don’t remember much from the night before. You had gone out to celebrate with Logan and of course, it was Miami and you were known so it wasn’t too hard to find the best spots. Drinks flowed and music pumped and you’re pretty sure you were hanging out with pitbull at one point.

Logan was still asleep in your bed in your Miami home, shirt missing and a distinct smell of beer sticking to his skin. His hair was ruffled and random pieces of glitter floated around his skin. His shins were hanging off the edge of the bed and random marks littered his exposed back, scratches and bruises, no doubt your fault, painting his usually blank skin with hues of red and purple. You’re not sure if you’ve ever been more in love with him.

You slide from the bed quietly, moving toward your guitar as a sudden bout of lyrics plagues your mind, begging to be released. You strum passively as you sit out on your balcony, humming lyrics under your breath as Logan remains asleep soundly in your bedroom.

“Said it’s still reserved for me … who are we.. fight the alchemy?”

A month later, Logan’s entering the paddock, his phone clutched tightly in his hand and headphone covering his ears. He’s making his way to his garage when he’s suddenly bombarded by the same five drivers from Miami, all talking over each other.

“Calm down, one at a time, please,” Logan sighs, waiting for them to quit speaking at the same time. They all stop, Carlos being the one to speak first.

“Have you heard the new y/n song?” Carlos asks, eyes raised widely. Logan laughs as he asks it, sliding his phone open to Spotify, proudly showcasing your new song playing on loop.

The Alchemy - y/n l/n

Logan slides his phone in his pocket, walking away before Lando can wax poetic about you or complain about Logan stealing you away from him. Logan glances back to see Oscar covering Landos ears as the song starts to play from a nearby speaker. Logan laughs as Charles, max and Carlos do the opposite of helping by deciding to sing it loudly in the Mclaren boys face.

Alex watches his teammate walk up, pulling off his headphones to find the song also playing the garage. Alex laughs, leaning his head back in content, basking in the pure happiness radiating through the atmosphere this weekend.

“Good song,” Alex hums, cracking an eye open to see a wide grin split the younger man’s face.

“Thanks man, it’s about me.”

Alex laughs, leaning back against the chair he was sitting in, watching as Logan sways to the song, lips moving to the words no one else had had time to learn yet.

Alex closes his eyes again, letting the rhythm of the song and Logan’s hums take over his hearing. He wasn’t sure about your relationship at first but he honestly hoped you’d stay together just so he could see Logan this happy every weekend.

You, on the other side of the world, were listening to the song at the very same time, singing the lyrics to yourself and dancing to a song Logan had been hearing for the past month non-stop.

As you danced along, you just knew Logan was out there somewhere, dancing with you.

———————————————

Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119

#scheduled #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 smau #logan sargeant x fem!reader #logan sargeant x you #logan sargent x reader #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargent fluff #fem!driver!reader

[imaginaryf1shots]

My Girls | Step back

WC: 1.5K

Driver!oc x Max Verstappen

Summery: When Esteban crashes into Cecilia and blames her, Max won’t stand for it.

Warnings: Cursing, crashing, fighting

A.N: Could be read as a stand alone or part of the series.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

It’s race day, Cecila was starting P4 Max P3. The weather was good, no rain and it wasn't too hot. There was the possibility of a safety car but the team wasn't holding on to that. Following the team strategy for the week seemed like a good thing. Cecilia was feeling good about the race, and her pace. She had good control of the car and everything was running smoothly, some would say too smoothly. This should’ve been the sign that something will happen.

On lap 48 of 53 she was about to finish P2 just passing the pitlane exit when a car came out of the pitlane fast, this made her try and swerve away so they wouldn't crash but that caused both cars to get off the track. Cecilia cursed as she lost control of the car for a second before she got it under control and the car stopped.

Cecilia

Who the fuck is that? What the hell?

RE

That's Ocon

Cecilia

Seriously what's wrong with him

It's not the first time the frenchman crashed into Cecilia, thankfully he barely touched her car this time and from the looks of it his car sustained damage, Cecilia was able to get back on the track but she had lost her place and was down to P11 he made her loose all the points and any progress she made throughout the race.

Obviously by the end of the race she couldn't make up the positions she lost. Finishing p 9. Cecilia was angry and disappointed. Rightfully so.

She parked the car and got out walking down the pitlane to get weighted and go do her media duty. She didn't bother taking her helmet off until she was off the lane. An fia person was talking to her, they gave Ocon a penalty for going over the speed exiting pit lane and forcing her off track.

They were barely out of the public view when an angry voice called Cecilia. The female was surprised to see that it's Ocon. He had no reason to be angry with her; she literally did nothing.

"What the fuck Cecilia!"

"What are you on about?" She asked him back, her voice angry.

"You just cost me the race." Esteban shouted, moving his hand around, the much taller male was now in arms reach of Cecilia, the FIA person stepped back to let the drivers scream their hearts out at each other.

"I cost YOU the race? you cost me the podium!" She was beyond confused why he was shouting at her for, he's clearly in the wrong.

"You still got points, I came in last!"

"How in the world is that my fault, you better check yourself Ocon because this isn't the first time you've crashed into me." She pointed at him before she crossed her arms feeling defensive, the Frenchman wasn't backing down, in fact he was moving closer.

"Hey, hey calm down mate." Carlos came up behind Cecilia, he stood facing the two fighting drivers, their voices were carrying all over the area.

"Don't tell me to fucking calm down, my race is ruined, I got no points and I'm being investigated!"

"None of this is my fault and what you thought coming here to fight me will do what? Huh? What the fuck do you want?" Cecilia was really trying to calm down, but he wasn't helping. "It’s not my fault you can't drive!"

"What the fuck did you just say to -" Carlos placed his hand on Estaban’s shoulder to stop him from coming any closer, but Cecilia didn't take a step back, this irritated Estaban more. He tried to push Carlos off him but the Spaniard was holding him back. Suddenly they were joined with Lewis, the Mercedes driver stood next to his teammate quickly assessing the situation. "You shouldn't even be driving in an F1 car! Only got here because of daddy's money-"

"Woah, woah mate come on it's just one race." Now Lewis tried to stop him. Estaban then switched to French, he was shouting and Cecilia to her credit stopped talking when she saw that nothing was going through to him.

"Stupid fucking spoild brat, ccouldn't even keep it in your pants and-“

"I swear to god Estban shut the fuck up-

“Step back,mate.” Lewis said but it was like he was talking to himself.

"What's the truth!”

"That doesn't have to do with anything, stop being pitty.” Cecilia tried to reason, while also controlling her own anger.

“I'm not pity it's facts, You slu-“

Estaban almost fell on his back, a body was in front of you blocking his view to you, Estaban stumbled back. Since Carlos was holding him back he managed to help him balance himself before he fell. Looking up at who pushed him, he expected Lewis but he saw Max.

And Max is mad, he's pissed. He heard Esteban before he heard your voice and he knew enough French and heard what happened on track quickly from one of the Mercedes engineers that were around to congratulate Lewis on his podium.

"If you can’t drive, it’s your fucking fault, you don’t go around blaming people for your own wrong doings, you crashed into her, not the other way around.” Max spat the words out, he was breathing heavily, and when Cecilia tried to move to his side, Max just moved in front of her again. Lewis shook his head at her, this is now Max’s fight, no man would see another man yelling at his significant other and just stand by. Yes she can hold her own and can protect herself but it’s not about that. Max is dominant by nature and very protective, Cecilia is his and he’s not about to let someone disrespect her like that.

“You’re just saying that because you fuck her.” Once the words left his mouth, Carlos pushed Esteban back, before him and Lewis held Max back, and if they didn’t he would’ve broken his jaw.

“Max! Max, come on, it's not worth it.” Cecilia shouted trying to get her boyfriend to calm down but to no avail, in what felt like ages but in fact under a minute, more people were around breaking the two men away from each other, there was a lot of shouting cursing, Esteban and Max wouldn’t back down. It took Esteban being pulled away by his team to get Max to calm down just enough for him to start hearing what was being said to him. Cecilia held his bicep and placed a hand on his chest, he was heaving, his eyes looking at where Esteban went. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.”

“Okay, I think we can all get back to work now!” Christian who appeared mid-fight, called for everyone, the crowd started to disperse, Toto who was also present told the female to come find him after she’s done. Christian patted Max’s back and whispered something in his ear before he looked at Cecilia, with a reassuring nod, he left the couple. She can handle Max.

“You okay?” She asked him softly, Max still wouldn’t look at her, placing her hand on his cheek, he finally looked at her.

“Am I okay? Are you okay?” Max’s tone did a 180, this is her Max, the Max only she gets to see.

“Yeah, he hasn’t said anything new, and he’s wrong.” Cecilia shrugged, she’s not friends with Esteban, they don’t really have common friends, but she liked to believe that she’s on good terms with everyone on the grip, but apparently not.

“Still doesn’t make it okay.” Max pushes her hair out of her face, it’s out of the braid and flowing down her back.

“Never said it does, but you know, some men have fragile egos.” Cecilia said with a smile, her hands were on his chest, they were standing very close.

“Yeah, and they better stay away from you.” Max muttered bitterly. “Fuck, I still want to punch him.”

“That makes the two of us, BUT we have a daughter to set an example for so we’ll take the high ground.” Cecilia knew that once she brought the Nathalie card Max would cave, and he knew she knew that, Cecilia giggled at the look he gave her. “Thank you for standing up for me.”

“It’s my job.” Max kissed her forehead and pulled the female in for a hug, they were both sweaty and Max still had champagne all over him but they both needed that hug. They stood there for a few minutes, before they pulled back, they had obligations to do, and both will have to talk to their teams about what happened and the FIA would have to hear about it as well. So a lot of work for both of them.

“I love you.” Cecilia said as they rounded the corner for the media pen.

“I love you too.” Max kissed the back of her hand that was laced in his before they pulled away from each other and were joined by their own team’s PR managers to go into the media pen.

TAGLIST:

@luciaexcorvus . @vellicora . @tpwkstiles . @belennasif . @eugene-emt-roe . @fanboyluvr . @fangirl125reader . @christianpulisic10 . @belennasif . @itsjustkhaos . @crashingwavesofeuphoria . @mynameisangeloflife . @mirrorball-6 . @skynel09 . @barcelonaloverf1life . @lilipiggytails . @rebelatbay . @christianpulisic10 . @ironmaiden1313 . @dark-night-sky-99 . @amalialeclerc . @bborra . @allsouls-emma . @buckybarns4life . @distancedss . @xoscar03 . @aquangxl .

#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 scenario #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #my girls #max verstappen x oc #max x oc #max one shot #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula 1

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I left a message on my abusive ex’s memorial page?

🐡🐡 to find

When I was ~16-19, I dated someone (who was 17-20 over that same time period) who was very emotionally and financially abusive. Thankfully it was a mostly online relationship, but during the 2 times we met in person they were also abusive in other ways. I won’t explain any further since it isn’t relevant. They had continued to stalk me after that for some years, onljne and with IRL letters

I recently discovered that they passed away at the end of last year. Apparently my alt Facebook that I had forgotten about which I haven’t used in ages (I stopped using it before we broke up, and it’s been about 5 years since we broke up) was still friended to them, and had received an invitation to their memorial group along with everyone else on their friends list. The only reason I even remembered this account still existed was from going through a very old group chat on Skype and seeing a link to it and going “oh shit I should delete that huh”. Basically all this to say I only found out through a series of complete coincidences.

I’ve had a huge turmoil of emotions ever since I found out. It’s extremely sudden and they died very young. Since I found out late, the funeral had already happened and a lot of messages were already posted to the memorial page.

W/o making this any longer since I’ve probably overdetailed this already, it’s been a couple weeks of a lot of memories I’d rather have been forgotten, and feeling extremely, weird, about the whole thing. My OCD has also latched onto this in some pretty unpleasant ways.

I’ve been considering leaving a message on their memorial page. Of course I wouldn’t talk about their abuse in front of god and grandma and everyone, I’d keep it vague. I wouldn’t be negative, just contemplative. But I feel like it would help my mind finally close the chapter of being affected by them. However, I know the memorial page is supposed to be for people who have positive memories of them. Which I know I don’t. Even without explaining who they are or what they did to me, or even without saying anything negative at all, WIBTA if I did this? I don’t want to intrude on their grieving family and actual friends, I don’t blame any of them for the kind of person they were, I doubt any of them even know.

#aita #am i the asshole

[honeyhotteoks]

i genuinely can't stop thinking about yunho as a fallen angel... like...

yunho’s catholic confirmation name is stefano, which is i believe a reference to saint stephen. saint stephen is the patron saint of several different things, but the one that caught my eye was the patron saint of coffin makers. ive had that knowledge churning around in my brain for a long time, especially after watching the kdrama doom at your service, but after seeing these pictures my mind is absolutely spinning with fallen angel soulmate yunho brain rot……… so come along with me

•

fallen angel yunho. he's been wandering the earth for years, passing through life and people and history and he's never known the reason that he was cast out until he meets her, you. he hears you first, a distant voice in the back of his mind, a prayer to his saintly name, a name he hasn't heard in what feels like a millennia. a whisper to saint stephen, the man he used to be, many years and many bodies ago.

no one prays to him anymore, not really. certainly not a voice like yours, ringing clearly and angrily in his ear, a bitter request for a coffin to be ready in early spring. he thinks about the way it's almost winter now, the air turning crisp, and he wonders what in your life has you so angry and yet so practical about death.

he thinks of you for days, weeks, idlily waiting to hear the voice again. he dreams of it, sometimes wakes from a stone sleep to your bitter tenor, the clear catch of tears in your throat, but it's always a memory. he finds himself wandering the city for you, searching through churches, reverent houses of worship that you might be hiding away in. he doesn't expect to find your voice ringing out clear as day across the crowded room of a museum, full of life and joy and the picture of health.

he finds a way to speak to you, he's practiced in the art of conversation, of seduction even when the end goal isn't sex. he just wants to know you, to hear your pretty prayer in person, to understand your voice just a little and why in the world you were praying to him and not god himself like everyone else. in the midst of many, he makes a space for you both alone, the connection and the pull immediate and essential.

for a while, you make him smile, laugh, relax, he feels more at ease and more like a person than he ever would have expected. he doesn't understand you or your prayer though, not until you cough painfully, fitfully into your sleeve and he sees the bright kiss of blood at the corner of your lips. he never imagined you sick, but he supposes it makes sense. in all the versions of meeting you he imagined, this outcome wasn’t one he ever entertained.

he's never watched someone he's loved die before, at least not since his first life, and shamefully he barely remembers the names of his family from then. but somehow he knows he'll remember yours, the way he aches is altogether new and even though he knows it would be better to watch over you from afar, he just can't. and it doesn't help that you keeps finding your way to him around every corner of the city, coincidence after coincidence. so easy to joke about how it must be fate when it is in fact fate, pulling you tightly together and tying the knot tight.

he allows himself to love you then, and you allow yourself one last, good thing. he never lies about who and what he is, and you never really believe him, for all you know he's just a figment of your imagination. a hallucination from one of your tumors like the doctor warned you about. you think if cancer can give you one gift before dying, at least it's him.

for a little while yunho thinks his purpose in falling from grace was to love you, after all you prayed to him, no matter how bitterly. but he understands the truth the moment he meets your daughter, the moment he realizes his purpose for you is much more than momentary, final happiness.

and so he carries you forward through those final months, easing your pain and your giving you one last chance at real, lasting love. and he helps ease you into the other side, his promises whispered tearfully into your hair, that he'll see you again but only after he stays by her side. your child's own guardian angel, happy to watch over her and guide her until it's her time to come home too.

and of course, that means he has to wait. you both do, but he's already waited, even when he didn't know what he was waiting for.

#this is straight rambling #but i know i can commit to writing this fic #so please have a wildly fleshed out idea #honeyhotteoks updates #yunho brain rot #cw cancer #cw death #but like i’m so sorry yunho is prime soulmates fic fodder #like red thread of fate!!!!!!

[chiefdirector]

I love you, it's ruining my life | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

I love you, it's ruining my life

The first day was the easiest of all. His world has come crashing down around him and yet he was still standing amongst the rubble. Tim didn't know what was true anymore, the love of his life has disappeared right before his eyes and he was helpless to change that.

He spent the entirety of the first day on the streets of Los Angeles, he rookie by his side, searching for his wife but it was fruitless. He returned home alone.

The second day was worse. Just as he returned home by himself, he woke to an empty bed, her pillows still indented from the last time she had slept there. He didn't make the bed, instead he shoved the sickening feeling that had begun to grow back down and left for work.

The second day of searching for his wife turned up the same results as the first. She was a detective of the LAPD, and yet not a single officer could offer a lead as to where she had gone. She had been taken away with the wind, never to be seen again.

He didn't want to admit it but as the days and weeks passed by, Tim oculd feel his hopelessness return. He was a police Sargent, he knew the statistics on missing persons cases. And it wasn't like she was without her enemies, there was a never-ending list of people who would want to harm her. It was a risk of the job, but yet he never thought it would effect them.

All my mornings are Mondays stuck in an endless February I took the miracle move-on drug, the effects were temporary

Despite only a year passing, there was more evidence leading to declare her to be dead rather than another name on the missing-persons list. Tim thought that her funeral would have been the hardest day; watching the empty coffin be lowered into the ground damn near killed him too, but his heart kept beating. It was agonising but he kept on living, he couldn't stop living.

The worst day came only a few weeks later. The memory of the day was fleeting; hazed by the rush of emotions and the actions taken. One moment he was in Sargent Grey's office, and seemingly in the next, he was running through the woods watching her run towards him also.

They crashed together, his arms wrapping around his body, bringing her warmth closer to him. Not matter how close she was, she needed to be closer to him; he didn't want to be apart again, his heart wouldn't be able to take it.

I love you, it's ruining my life

He never wanted to feel that pain again. To love someone as much as he loved her could only leave one of them suffering. He knew that he wouldn't survive loving her and losing her again. He needed to protect himself this time.

He knew that despite everything that happened she wouldn't step back from danger, instead she would come up with a million and one reasons why he was being unreasonable. He had only one option, to make her believe something untrue.

So the worst day came around the following morning, as he sat her down at the breakfast table they had once spent their days laughing over.

"I can't do this anymore," He said, hating himself as the words come out, "I can't live like this, waiting for the call to find out you've been hurt - or worse. I've lived through it and it nearly killed me. I can't do it again."

Panic crossed her face, as she tried to process his words, "Tim, what do you mean?"

"I can't keep waiting for the worst to happen. I love you, and it's ruining my life."

And for a fortnight there, we were forever

-------

Masterlist

Tags: @rookietrek @kmc1989 @fluentmoviequoter

Let me know if you want to be added to my Tim Bradford/Rookie tag list

#tim bradford x reader #the rookie #tim bradford #tim bradford imagine #the rookie imagine #the rookie x reader #chiefdirector #taylor swift #the tortured poets department #fornight #post malone #fortnight taylor swift #ts11 #Spotify #songfic

[oswildin]

Loki x Bestfriend!You Headcannons (He’s In Love With You)

A/N: Avenger!Loki AU, Avenger!You

You’re the first person he has ever felt he could just be himself around. There were no titles, no expectations, just Loki. It was freeing.

Loki always searches for you first whenever he hears the latest bit of gossip around the compound (yes, he most definitely is a gossiper, he just loves the drama, and if he can stir the pot, oh he will).

Quiet evenings with you. You force him to watch films with you, and he always grumbles and will consistently commentate through the whole thing, but secretly, he loves it. He loves being able to spend time with just you, away from everyone else.

He thinks he masks his feelings well, he’s known for deception after all, but no… It’s clear to everyone that the man is totally head over heels and would do anything (and I mean anything) for you. They have bets on how long it takes for him to finally tell you.

He didn’t realise what he felt at first, having never really felt romantic love before. Sure, he’d had fancies, but never anything… real.

It took him a long time to realise that yes, it was in fact ‘love’ he felt for you. The moment he realised was when you were both taking a stroll around the compound grounds, the sun was shining, the birds were singing, everything felt perfect. And then you turned to look at him, the sun sitting perfectly behind you, casting you in an almost ethereal glow.

It was then he felt his heart skip a beat, a flutter in his belly, his eyes widening a fraction at the sight of you. He felt sick and excited at the same time. Nervous yet comfortable. Scared yet peaceful. How was that even possible? Even for a God of his own contradictory nature, that all felt so contrasting.

“Loki? You good?” You’d raised a brow, giving him a strange look as he hadn’t said anything in a good ten seconds - which was rare for him.

“Hm?” Loki had blinked, clearing his throat. “I- uh, yeah, yes. Fine.” He had awkwardly told you, nodding, trying to regain composure.

How utterly cliche. Like a scene from one of those awful romantic films you made him suffer through.

Oh, how his gaze softens whenever you’re in the room. Almost like a lovesick puppy. If his past self could see him now, he would’ve called him ‘pathetic’ and tell him to ‘get a grip’.

But current Loki, he didn’t care. The way you made him feel was unlike anything he’d ever felt before.

Of course he had to fall for his best friend. It couldn’t have just been simple. Easy. But then again, of course he had to fall for his best friend… To even be considered his best friend, well, that was no easy feat.

He takes any reason to be ridiculously close to you. Cooking? You bet he’s standing right beside you at the stove, moving every time you move to grab a spice. Watching a film? Yeah, there’s plenty of space on the sofa, but on the other side of it he can’t make sure his arm is touching yours. Handing him something? Oh, he is practically grabbing your whole hand just to feel the tingle go up his arm.

There was one time he had overheard Natasha mentioning she was planning to set up a blind date for you. He had never interjected himself into a conversation so fast before.

“A blind date? How… tedious. Besides, doesn’t it seem counterintuitive? Going to meet someone you have never seen before? Don’t even know the name of? They could be a- a psychopath or a murderer, or worse yet utterly hideous and dull.”

Yeah, he handled that with his usual tactile diplomacy. (Sarcasm)

“That’s not how blind dates work, Loki.” Natasha told him with a smirk. “I know the candidate.”

“Oh, well that makes me feel a lot better.” Sarcasm, obviously.

Loki was extremely relieved when he found out you had turned down her offer.

“Babe, could you pass me the salt?” You’d once said.

Natasha AND Loki both reached for the salt.

You looked at Loki strangely. Natasha simply smirked. Loki looked extremely embarrassed. He didn’t even like the thought of being called ‘babe’. Well… At least not until you’d said it. Even if it wasn’t to him.

“I thought you said ‘hey’-“ Loki had tried to cover.

You got hurt on a mission? Even just a scratch? Oh, Loki is worrrrieeeddddd.

“Let me see.” He’d insist. “Loki, I’m fine-“ You’d try. “Yes, maybe so, but I’d like to be sure, you mortals are extremely fragile-“ He’d say with his usual dry humour.

He’d dress your wound, even if the med staff had done, he would always find something to critique, something that he could do better. All because he wanted to be the one to make sure you were okay, safe, looked after.

The sun is in your eyes? How dare it, utterly unacceptable, he would not have it. He would destroy it for such an offence. (Not really, but you get the idea).

“Loki, no-“ Tony had said. “Loki, yes-“ Loki had said. “Loki, no.” You had said. “Loki, no.” Loki had said. (Again, you get the idea).

He just found you… utterly comforting. Safe. You accepted him for him. Not the masks, just him. And he finally felt like he belonged. And he would be damned if he ever lost that. Whether he ever revealed how he felt or not…

Spoiler: He does, by accident. Slip of the tongue. What a tragedy for a God known for his silver-tongue, but it seemed even he had his slip-ups, his moments of humanness.

Another spoiler: Of course, you loved him too.

#loki #loki x reader #loki headcanons #loki imagine #loki laufesyon x reader #loki laufeyson #marvel loki #marvel x reader #mcu headcanons #loki x you

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hey Raven, i wanted to ask: Do you think if Silver was born as a girl that Lilia would have raised him differently? Basically, i wonder how Lilia would raise a girl.

What do you think..?

I really don't think Lilia would have raised a daughter any differently than a son. Starting out as a parent, Lilia had a hard time grasping the needs of a human child and how they differ from that of a fae child. For example, he wouldn't worry when infant Silver slipped out of his cradle (expecting Silver to come back on his own) and presently still tends to babies by feeding them milk not in a nippled bottle but from a regular cup. His primary concern, then, would mainly be on learning these nuances between human and fae rather than being concerned with male or female (the former being a far greater distinction than the latter).

Lilia and Silver's lifestyle would be the same, regardless of what Silver's sex is. He (or she) would still be in a position where they have to deal with a father that is messy and cannot cook well, which puts Silver in a situation where they have to grow up quickly to take care of Lilia and himself (when Lilia is away on his travels). This would probably result in a very similar personality forming for fem!Silver--someone who is diligent, reserved, and devoted to Lilia. I'm certain that Lilia would also still train Silver as a knight. I don't see him as the type of person who would perceive women as weak or helpless, nor do I see him discouraging a woman from being able to fight. After all, he knows and is close with two extremely powerful women (Meleanor and Maleficia) who could easily strike HIM down if they wanted to. Lilia laughs at the suggestion that his princess is a damsel in distress and is quick to correct others by informing them that maybe their princesses are like that, but his is not. Sure, that comes down to the Draconia blood making Meleanor powerful beyond the average mage--but what reason would Lilia have to deny Silver the same opportunity to gain the strength to protect others, just as Meleanor and Maleficia have for their own family and people? The fear of potentially losing Silver? But isn't it more dangerous to not let Silver have a fighting chance at all? That’s what I think, at least.

Finally, when it comes to things like "looking feminine" or "looking masculine", Lilia himself has always toed that line. In fact, he usually has the most feminine or flamboyant looks of Diasomnia. The most immediate example I can think of is his dorm uniform in which he proudly wears an oversized coat to give the appearance of being small and cute, and having tons of ruffles and a skirt-like flare to his pants. Lilia also often confidently brags about how "cute" he is and takes great pride in that cuteness. I'd imagine that he encourages Silver to dress how he likes, sex or gender be damned, so long as Silver feels his best. And Silver, being Silver, would probably just dress as usual Silver does, in something serious and practical rather than something "stylish".

I feel like the only thing that would really change is Silver not being able to attend NRC. (Well... unless it's a situation where fem!Silver attends anyway but is passing as a guy because of how androgenous she is.)

#twst #twisted wonderland #Lilia Vanrouge #Silver #Meleanor Draconia #Maleficia Draconia #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #book 7 spoilers #notes from the writing raven #question #twst au #twisted wonderland au #au #twst genderbend #twisted wonderland genderbend

[madame-fear]

𐙚 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒.

part one | part two.

ೀ amira speaks! : pretty much self-indulgent. kinda based on the song “shameless” by camila cabello. for some reason,, i adore the idea of older brother!Matías being your emotional support coach AHSHDJK ˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : jealousy can terribly fog your clarity, becoming oblivious to the way your best friend — who also happens to be your crush — feels about you. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ word count : 2.3k.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : friends to lovers, fluff, a bit of oblivious mutual pining. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : Francisco Romero x Recalt!Reader. ( this part is mostly about Matías encouraging you to talk to Fran about your feelings lmao )

If there was one particular thing you were undoubtedly good at, was at gnawing your own mind continously with jealousy.

Jealousy was the worst of your enemies— one you knew well, and dreaded the most. With the sappy feelings that appeared the moment you had a new crush, along came the bitterness jealousy and insecurity. At the slightest situation where you felt as if you were about to lose an opportunity with your new crush, jealousy immediatly took a toll on you.

It didn’t feel easy to deal with it, leading you to avoid every situation that could potentially be overwhelming— but sometimes, it was inevitable to be faced with those situations that piqued the familiar sensation of bitterness.

Gods, now you wondered why you had decided to go to a big party with Fran instead of doing something else together? But it wasn’t like you could be in control of every single situation surrounding both of you, or even control your own emotions, anyways.

You met Fran the very first time you went to visit your older brother, Matías, in the filming set of “La Sociedad de la Nieve”. You had met all of your brother’s cast mates, but the blonde haired Argentine was the one you clicked the most with— his endearing, loving & charismatic personality was captivating, and it didn’t take long until he became your closest best friend... And your crush, too.

Everyone around you noticed the intense crush you had on Fran. Matías particularly always teased you by mentioning that you were quite blatant with your feelings, and while you tried to dismiss his sayings, it was true— it was as if you nearly had heart eyes for the blonde, giggling and smiling to yourself at the slightest glimpse you caught of him.

Your brother insisted that Fran felt the same way towards you, that it was more than obvious he was enamoured with you, but you vehemently denied it. The idea of him reciprocating your feelings seemed impossible, and with each passing day, the thought of it was even more farfetched.

Now, you felt at the brink of losing your shit. The only thing that constantly replayed on your mind was the — practically abrupt — showcase of emotions you had after seeing Fran talking closely and laughing with another girl at a party you both attended, only to then lie about not feeling quite well, and dragging him out of there with you.

Ever since, you couldn’t get the image of him and another girl out of your mind, and you had barely texted him. The rational portion of your mind argued that the interaction between them meant nothing; it was just a friendly, casual conversation. Besides, Fran could befriend and talk with whomever he desired— you shouldn’t even be getting in the way.

But the irrational portion of your mind, which seemed to win a greater part of your thoughts, overwhelmed you with the idea of him fancying someone else, feeling as if the slight opportunity you had to be with him slipped away from your hands.

Faint breeze constantly hit against your features. Quietly, you sat on a chair you placed in the balcony of your apartment, having fixed your gaze on the sky that contained a rich orange tone mixed with a rosy haze. The silence of the moment while you drowned in your own thoughts was suddenly interrupted when you heard your phone ringing on your pocket.

Taking the phone out of your pocket, staring quickly at the screen, you saw your brother calling you. Most of the time you texted each other, only calling or getting called if there was an emergency, or anything urgent at all. “Yes?” you picked up the call, awaiting him to speak— you supposed something must’ve happened for him to call you out of nowhere.

Brief silence loomed from the other side of the line.

“Code Blondie,” for some reason, you could almost hear him smiling while speaking. Code Blondie was the code you both agreed you’d use to start a conversation about Fran, or refer to him discreetly in public. It was a silly little thing you had always done with your brother, as he was the one you gushed about your crushes with, and the one you vented to about your heartbreaks.

Inhaling deeply,, you then released a loud sigh. The bitter, almost poisonous feeling of your own thoughts dreadfully consumming you had returned, after fading away for several seconds. The mere mention of anything related to him bought you back to how you had been feelings the previous days, and at the current moment. You furrowed your eyebrows, and before you could even respond, he continued.

“Somebody’s been asking for you,” Matías was definitely smiling to himself while talking from the other side of the line. “Your boyfriend seemed almost desperate. He said he was concerned about you.” you placed your arm on the armholder of the chair, using your fist to hold your face.

You thought you had been behaving as normal as you could with Fran, because for some reason, you could barely be with, or talk to him without remembering what you saw, or even getting your toxic feelings hauntingly coming back to you. You weren’t mad at Fran, were you? You didn’t even know why you would be mad at him... You should be mad at yourself for acting this way. One thing you knew, was that you felt confused about everything.

“What... What do you mean, concerned about me?” you inquired, remaining with your eyebrows furrowed. “Matías, what did he tell you?” a scoff was heard coming from your brother. You felt that awaiting for his response was an eternity— the moment itself felt like an eternity.

While you were still troubled yourself at the hands of your own bitter jealousy, you did feel worried about having accidentally made Fran feel bad without him even knowing what he did for you to react this way. Perhaps you hadn’t been so discreet, after all.

“Fran told me, he was afraid you might be angry at him and asked how you had been doing... For some reason?” instead of having been debating to yourself whether or not to tell your brother about this, you should’ve done it straight away, and you would surely have avoided yourself a great deal of this upcoming conversation. You always told Matías literally everything, but you hadn’t told him about this moment.

“Now I need to know, what the fuck happened between the two of you? I didn’t even know what to answer him!” he asked in a teasing manner, “You didn’t tell me about this one, sis.” no, you hadn’t. All you could do, was pinch the bridge of your nose as you closed your eyes. Sooner or later, you would have to get your shit together and toss your own emotions through the window as well.

You wouldn’t have expected Fran to ask your brother about you, and to think you were angry at him. If anything, you were only angry at yourself for acting in such a childish way. Not only you dragged him out of that party with the excuse that you weren’t feeling well, but also fell practically silent the entire ride back to your home, and dismissed any help he offered. Fuck— jealousy ruined you.

“No, I didn’t. I’ve been gnawing my own mind with stupid little thoughts and forgot to tell you.” you replied honestly, rubbing your face out of frustration, before allowing the weight of your head to fall against your palm. “Oh God, this situation is so stupid— but remember the other day, that I told you that I was going out with him to a party?” Matías hummed in response, allowing you to continue.

“Well... To summarise it, I lost him amidst the crowd at one moment, and when I found him, he was talking closely and laughing with another girl...” your words drifted off for a second, “I got jealous, so I told him that I wanted to go home because I wasn’t feeling well and dragged him away with me,” now that you told Mati about the situation, you felt slightly embarrassed about your abrupt display of emotions over something so small and silly.

“I kind of fell silent the entire ride back home, and... barely spoke to him ever since, because I can’t help but constantly think about him being with another girl.” as soon as you finished explaining, you nibbled your lower lip anxiously. No matter how silly the situation was, you found comfort everytime you remembered that your brother was sort of your emotional support coach.

Matías scoffed after you finished talking. Gods, you were oblivious.

“Sos re boluda mal, vos.” you were used to having Matías call you like that playfully. You teasingly called him “boludo” and “pelotudo”, and instead, he called you the same way. In response, you rolled your eyes. “Seriously, how oblivious can you be about it?” his tone seemed a bit more serious, making you attentively listen to him, curiously.

“Can’t you see how enamoured he is for you? Woman, he stares at you with heart eyes— and you got jealous because he spoke with another girl for a short while?” you shook your head, muttering a soft “no” under your breath. Perhaps Matías was trying to make you feel less bad, but the idea of Fran reciprocating your feelings didn’t fit in your head— you were in a vehement denial.

“Mati, no. I don’t think Fran sees me that way—” before you could continue objecting against his statements, Matías interrupted you. “My God, you are blind. EVERYONE from the set knows, and can see, that he looks like a little schoolgirl in love whenever you’re around.” you fell silent, as a rosy haze spread across your cheeks. “We tease him all the time about you. Somehow, Fran manages to bring you up in every possible conversation topic we have with him.”

The only thing you could do, was remain silent as he spoke. Matías never lied to you about a single thing— and you doubted he would be lying to you about this particular situation, which was something you knew you were wholeheartedly serious about. Besides, he knew what he was talking about. Hearing him talk about this felt enlightening, in a way— the mental fog blinding your clarity fading away.

“Ask any of the other boys about this, and they will tell you the exact same thing I’m telling you now.” he continued, “The man smiles to himself and becomes flustered at the slightest mention about you, or glimpse of you!” it truly was unbelievable how oblivious you were to the situation.

“Besides, can’t you see how painfully clingy Fran is witu you? I once teased him by telling him that I would kick his ass if he tried anything funny with you. He’s an idiot who won’t stop talking about you, and fixes his stare on you whenever you’re near.” Matías scoffed, making you helplessly smile to yourself.

“You nearly had him crawling on his hands and knees, all afraid of having made you upset— and you are beating yourself wondering if he feels the same?” maybe your brother was right. Your brain had a thing to make obvious things escape from you. A sigh of relief spurred from your lips, feeling a burden on your back immediatly disappear. “I think you might be right, Mati. But what do I even do now?”

“Of course I’m right. I always am.” a cocky piece of shit, he was— but a good emotional coach, and brother, for sure. “What you’re going to do now, is you are going to hang up on me, and you will send Fran a message immediatly telling him you want to see him.” you sighed, shaking your head. How would you do that? It felt terribly awkward to send him a message out of nowhere, telling him you wanted to see him.

“And say what, exactly? “Sorry for being distant, I felt jealous because you slightly paid attention to another girl that wasn’t me?””

“Yes.”

“No! Matías, I can’t do that—”

“Shut up, yes you can. Say it just like that, or find a polite way of doing it, whatever.” you wished you could be as shameless as your brother was. “Don’t fret too much, Fran will probably find it endearing.” before being able to protest about anything, he continued to speak. “Anyways, I already told him to send you a message because you were free today and wanted to meet with him, so he surely beat you to it already.”

“You fucking did what?!—”

“Yeah, I did. Bye, good luck, and let me know how it goes!” the phone clicked. He hung up before you could threaten to strangle him.

As a soft click sound was heard from the phone line, you took your device off your ear. You adored your brother to no end, he always knew how to motivate you to do things you were afraid of doing— but this time, you felt as if you had been pushed right into confronting Fran about your feelings.

The phone vibrated on your hand. You had new text messages.

Unlocking your phone, you scrolled downwards on the screen to check all the notifications you had. And just like Matías had predicted, you had three new messages from Fran. The pounding of your heartbeat increased abruptly, almost as if you could spit your heart right out from your mouth.

Frani 🧚‍♂️💗: gooordiiiis Frani 🧚‍♂️💗: are you free right now? Frani 🧚‍♂️💗: Mati said you were, and I would like to spend some time with you 💘

Fuck. If you could teletransport to where youe brother was, you would repeatedly, and very violently, hit him in the face with at least a pillow for pushing you into this situation. You couldn’t avoid the blonde haired Argentine for ever, and why were you avoiding him for something related to your own feelings, anyways?

But, considering all the things your brother had just told you, and him being the person you trusted the most— perhaps, this was your opportunity to free yourself from all the things picking on your mind. And hopefully, they would go as planned.

◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ ` taglist .ᐟ

@luceracastro @castawaycherry @creative-heart @cyliarys-starlight @deepinsideyourbeing @chiquititamia @koiibiito @lastflowrr

#francisco romero x reader #francisco romero fluff #fran romero x reader #fran romero fluff #fran romero one shot #francisco romero one shot #lsdln cast #lsdln x reader #matias recalt x reader

[knightyoomyoui]

TWICE: ANTHOLOGY OF HORROR ONE-SHOTS | "Auntie's Reminiscence" ft. NAYEON

Welcome to my new book that consists of one-shots under horror genre that features every TWICE members! If you are a ONCE and a fan of horror who loves to get spooked, give this series a try! Thank you and enjoy reading!

STORY #1: "Auntie's Reminiscence" ft. Im Nayeon

NOTE: Inspired from true events.

Im Nayeon joins along with her family to pay a visit on her Auntie Eunji’s home. She was willing to go for two reasons: one is because its their group’s vacation after taking a rest from both in their concert tour and current mini-album promotions. The second thing is simply because she cherish her Auntie and the place their about to go through with all her heart.

Her Auntie Eunji’s house in Incheon was her childhood home, and Auntie Eunji along with her husband and Nayeon’s Uncle Hajoon were the ones who stood up as Nayeon’s second parents and family when her mother had to work often after she and her father got divorced. The two had children, a perfect replacement to be the sibling figure for an only child like Nayeon.

That’s one of the reasons why her childhood wasn’t bad at all. She still has another family to grow up and to enjoy with. Sadly, not everything last long when Nayeon had to move back with her parents to Seoul after she got accepted to an Arts School there to study. 

It’s been years since she last saw her Auntie Eunji and also her Uncle Hajoon. Although, sadly… despite how Nayeon was able to have another opportunity to catch up the lost times with her beloved auntie, it’s the opposite to tell for her uncle.

Her Uncle Hajoon passed away from diabetes months ago, and what’s worse was that she wasn’t able to attend the funeral because she was in the States preparing for their tour there at that time. She instead sent her deepest condolences to her family and especially to her Auntie Eunji who must be suffering the most.

The relationship between the two can be described as very strong and truly dedicated. Their love story was one of the best stories Nayeon has ever heard, and that was also the one who encouraged and put Nayeon into curiosity to know what is true love. No offense to her father and mother, but her young mimd grew up to idolize more the other couple.

She was just like among her family that mourned a lot for her Uncle Hajoon’s untimely passing, but it was undeniable that her Auntie Eunji was the one who suffered the most. Every day and night it would not be a circumstance that she won’t gonna cry in despair and grief realizing that her beloved husband will no longer be in her side forever.

Nayeon’s family reported to her that they also tried to console Auntie Eunji but it was then no effect for the grieving lady. Without any other choice, due to the struggle they had to call for a psychiatrist to help Auntie Eunji atleast have a progress on accepting the death of Hajoon.

And that’s what she’s currently experiencing, and along the days came where Nayeon is staying in her childhood home. She would then take a peek on her Auntie’s bedroom, and there she was, crying while either curled down on the bed or sitting while holding one of Hajoon’s things.

“Poor Auntie. I really wish she would finally let go of the pain and accept that Uncle’s truly gone. It may be hard for her but it’s the only way.” Nayeon whispered to herself while pouting at the sight of her devastated auntie.

But then one day, Nayeon’s wish seemed to be granted when while their family and relatives are having a lunch, her Auntie Eunji suddenly came down from her room and joined the meal, surprising every person present in the table. They know that it puts them into hard time urging her to join them for food.

“Eunji! Finally you decided to come eat with us!” Nayeon’s mother and the older sister of Eunji, Seoyeon, gladly welcomed her as she watched her approach the table. “How are you doing?”

“Oh you can’t believe what just happened last night!” Eunji said with an excited tone. Nayeon just stared at her Auntie having a strange enthusiasm right now which is hugely contrast to her daily shallow mood she has been always observing from her.

“What is it?”

She sat on the table and let one of her sons to pick some food and place it on her plate. “Hajoon came to see me last night!”

Nayeon spitted the water she was drinking after hearing those ridiculous words. Did she heard it right? It must be the same question that everyone sharing in the room with her right now would ask too.

How was it possible to have someone pay you a visit when… that person has been recently passed away? Nayeon just watched her Auntie Eunji in her wide grin after saying it.

“W-what did you just say?” Seoyeon asked. Everyone in the room was exchanging glances at each other and muttering something that is probably judging Eunji right now except for Nayeon who remained speechless. “How? W-what did he do?”

“He said he misses me that’s why he wanted to spend some more time with me by helping me get to sleep!”

Chills starting to take over in their skin until Nayeon’s mother stopped this immediately by acting very glad for her mentally unstable sister and some attempts to change the topic. Once she was done eating and fled the room, everyone sighed in relief and started to buzz out their reactions of what just happened.

Seoyeon then tried to convince everyone that it’s probably just a pleasant dream of Eunji in order to cope with the loss, exactly the same thing as what Nayeon is trying to convince herself to believe in. However, it didn’t take too long for another scenarios to come just to disprove and scrap their claims.

Days passes by, and more stories of her Aunt Eunji talking about her private times with Hajoon during the night continues for Nayeon to hear. She tries so hard to wear this mask of disguise that she’s happy for her Aunt being the same old self as she is, but deep down Nayeon is so conflicted at what she truly feels for her Auntie’s condition.

“Mom, this isn’t right. Something’s wrong with Auntie now.” Nayeon talks with her mom while cleaning the living room. “At first I would like to think that she’s imagining things but… the more she speaks about Uncle Hajoon makes it starting to hear that…”

“Nayeon, your Uncle Hajoon is dead. It’s not possible.” Seoyeon quickly cuts off her daughter’s words. “Ghosts may be real yet she probably try to plaster its image as her husband just so she can think that she was still not alone and she still has the man she loves with her. It’s as if she’s finding way to forget the tragedy that happened to her.”

“But mom… it wasn’t doing anything good at Auntie. Her mind is being corrupted with her thoughts, the people here are starting to get scared at her stories, including me.” Nayeon defended. “I just want to see Auntie happy, but in the right way. This has to stop and we have to do something about it before its too late.”

Seoyeon sighs and slowly nods at her wise daughter. “Fine, I’ll give it one more try. She’s my sister, I have to help when she still needs it even if she doesn’t mind it.”

Nayeon’s encounter later that night had her loose her composure and completely disregarded the convincing that her Auntie is still hallucinating manifested from the reminiscence of happy memories she’s doing to remember Hajoon.

She was walking through her room when she noticed that there are footsteps exiting on her Auntie Eunji’s room leading to the stairways that directs to the rooftop. It was very dark there and Nayeon wanted to follow it but her examining at the footsteps was enough for her to feel the creeps.

The footsteps are covered in mud, and it’s size is large. Nayeon hurried rushed down on the living room to stay with her cousins and wait for them to return back in their rooms to sleep.

That’s not where it ends though, Nayeon still has to have one more experience that she thinks it’s definitely one of the worst memories she ever had in her life. 

As she was about to tell her Auntie Eunji to sleep after her loud laughs were echoing through the ground floor, Nayeon slowly checks out the barely shut door through its gap. It was dark, and Nayeon was about to knock when while she was opening the door, she couldn’t fathom what she’s witnessing in her naked eyes.

A tall skinny figure was kneeling beside of her Auntie Eunji who is laughing out loud. Nayeon couldn’t even describe what she’s looking at but one thing’s for certain: it’s inhuman.

In her panic, Nayeon hurriedly clicked the switch to turn the lights on, the figure was filed to be captured though as it disappeared from thin air. She shouted to call her helpless aunt. “AUNTIE!”

She was walking towards the side of the bed when her Auntie Eunji sat up and looked at her with ecstatic expression. She was smiling from ear to ear today.

“ Nayeon! You saw him, right? You saw your Uncle Hajoon, but sadly he said he has to go for now.” Her Auntie Eunji said. Nayeon just scoffed and shivered at the grip of her auntie in her arms.

“Don’t worry, dear. Your Uncle Hajoon says he’s gonna check for you somet-”

“STOOOOPPPP!!! JUST STOP IT PLEASE!” Nayeon suddenly screamed in mercy, making her Auntie scared and confused at the same time. “YOU’RE MAKING ME SCARED, AUNTIE! UNCLE HAJOON IS ALREADY DEAD, CAN’T YOU JUST MOVE ON ALREADY? HE’S NOT COMING BACK!”

“What’s going on here?” Her mother Seoyon along with boys came by at the room to check up on Nayeon after hearing her plead. 

“How can you say something like that? You saw him too, Nayeon. Hajoon is alive and he said he’s staying with us. He did that for me!”

Nayeon couldn’t contain anymore the fear creeping up inside of her. She started to cry and hug her mother, while the rest just watched their Auntie Eunji still daydreaming about the times she and her husband used to share.

After recovering from her emotions, Nayeon tried to narrate what she just observed in Eunji’s room. Unfortunately, none of her mothers, relatives or her cousins seems to believe what she’s saying because they stand for the side that Nayeon is just being sucked up by her Auntie Eunji’s rare delusions.

She still tries to explore what could be the identity of that mysterious figure that she witnessed last night that distracts her really bad. Having it repeating inside her head was giving her massive discomfort.

Despite defending and in denial at Eunji’s stories, it doesn’t mean that they are tolerating it. They still want her old self to return and no more sink herself down from agony because it also affects them emotionally.

Nayeon and her family continues to search for ways to assist her Auntie Eunji but to no avail. She can admit that its beginning to make her lose her hope and feel pity a lot for her sake.

Her stress came to an end… but in a negative note when a month later, they watched their Auntie Eunji came out of the bathroom and proclaims “I’m pregnant, everyone! I’m having a baby with Hajoon!” while raising her pregnancy test.

Nayeon’s eyes largened in a mixture of terror, confusion, and shock at the announcement of her Auntie Eunji. Everything they have thought to be impossible seemed nonsense anymore because… they don’t even know what they should suppose to do about it in order to fix Eunji.

When she gave birth to her baby 9 months later, the doctors slowly handed it to Eunji. As she stares at the features of her son, there’s a part that she acknowleged initially after it piqued her interest.

“He has his father’s eyes” says Eunji as she continues to rock her baby on her arms. Her family, including the doctors, nurses, were all viewing from the door as they watch the wholesome moment of the pair while both horrified and concerned.

-----------------------------------------------------

NOTE: This story is inspired from a Filipino Spooktober 2023 entry by MilkyClear titled "Tito and Tita / Uncle And Auntie" and from the 1968 psychological horror classic film "Rosemary's Baby".

#twice nayeon #nayeon #im nayeon #twice fanfic #twice au #twice oneshots #twice horror #kpop au #kpop oneshots #kpop fanfic #horror #twice

[sluttybrunette]

TW:Yandere, crying, mentions of breakup?

Tried to make it yandere but couldn't find the perfect place to do it</3

Your arms were wrapped around yourself trying to shield yourself from the cold wind. Tears ran down your cheeks as your school got further and further away, you never thought Victoria would do this especially for a bet. 

Her friend's words repeated in your mind as they laughed and pointed saying that it was all a bet and that Victoria was dating you for money and to prove she doesn't always go back to her ex boyfriend. 

You sat down at a bench feeling like you couldnt breath from the wind taking it away, your arms tightened around you as you tried your best not to have another breakdown although it didn't work and you started to sob once again glancing at the school.

You checked the time wanting to see how much longer until the bus came and you could go home and cry in peace. Your phone dinged non-stop and you knew who it was.

It was Victoria, the same person who was messaging since her friends exposed her. She was non-stop apologising begging you to answer or look at her messages and you ignored them.

Although…it would hurt to look right…?

Big mistake because as soon as you opened the chat she started to message much much more.

“Darling?”

“Please Answer Y/N I can explain!”

“Lets meet up i promise i have a good reason Darling!”

You sighed and turned off your phone wiping your teary eyes before glancing around the area, noticing how it seemed so gloomy everywhere you looked.

Your phone didn't stop as you got on the bus and you honestly wish she would just stop.

As the bus rumbled on, you struggled to hold back your tears, some passengers shooting you a concerned look.

Victoria's messages continued to flood your phone, each notification feeling like a stab of pain. You tried to distract yourself by staring out the window, watching the world pass by in a blur.

But no matter how hard you tried to push her out of your mind, Victoria pleading words echoed in your head. The image of her face as she realised what her friends just said flashed before your eyes.

Despite everything, a small part of you couldn't help but wonder what her explanation was.

With a heavy sigh, you powered on your phone again. The wave of messages from Victoria had not ceased, each one more desperate than the last.

“Please, Y/n, just give me a chance to explain”

“I never meant to hurt you. I swear, i never wanted any of this to happen

“I’ll do anything to make it right, just please talk to me!”

As the bus pulled up to your stop, you hesitated for a moment before making a decision. With trembling fingers, you typed out a response to Victoria, your heart pounding in your chest with every word.

“Meet me at our spot this is your last chance”

You sent that message although you didn't plan on forgiving her or did you want to get back together with her.

God if only you knew what she did to get this chance…

#yandere #female yandere #wlw love #lesbian #lovesick #wlw #wlw post #yanderefemale #yandere lesbian

[beskarandblasters]

Stonecatcher

Chapter Two: It's Strange What Desire Will Make Foolish People Do

Din Djarin x OFC Athalia (Second Person POV)

Artwork: The Lovers by René Magritte Gif: @cherubispunk Series Masterlist | Series Playlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Series summary: An up-and-coming bounty hunter and a promising arms dealer cross paths on Dantooine. What starts as a business relationship quickly becomes more. How long can you bury your emotions and be a stonecatcher for someone else before you finally snap?

Series warnings: pre season one of The Mandalorian, instant smut but slow burn romantically, Athalia is able-bodied but other than that has no physical description, angst

Chapter summary: The Mandalorian returns, leaving with more than just a blaster, of course.

Word count: 2.7k

Chapter warnings: finger sucking, dirty talk, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie

It’s been a few weeks since you’ve seen the Mandalorian. You remember that night fondly but not because of the sex. No, you remember that night fondly because of the sale you made. It was your first sale to someone not local to here. While it was only an eight-credit sale, you had to start somewhere. 

Business has been doing good, though. For some strange reason, Casia has seen an influx of travelers lately. The inn has no vacancy and the cantina is busier than ever. Sheva’s been working more hours to accommodate the boom in customers, which leaves you to your own devices. And while you do miss spending time with her you also haven’t had much to think about it. With the amount of people passing through you’ve been able to make even more sales, and gain more inventory. Mando was just the beginning. 

To capitalize on all of the business Casia has been seeing, the cantina is having an event tonight. String lights hang from the roof and tables are set outside. It’s a bit of a risk having the outside by the river instead of inside the cantina. But it was all intentional. 

You’re helping Sheva put wildflowers in vases for the party, sitting at a table by the water's edge. It’s golden hour and the party is set to begin at sundown. It’s the first quality time you’ve had with Sheva in a while and she’s catching you up on her escapades over the past few weeks. 

“I told him to meet me out back after my shift was done,” she says, putting together another vase. 

“Well, did he?”

“He did,” she says suggestively. 

“You never told me what he looked like.”

“What does it matter? He’s long gone now.”

“Was he a Twi’lek?”

“Maybe…”

Maybe it’s the scenery and or the fact that you’re reconnecting with her, but either way, you’re feeling grateful about where you are for once. It almost feels like everything is falling into place on its own time. 

“You and your Twi’leks,” you joke, getting up and setting a vase on each table. 

“Oh yeah?? How about you and your Mandalorians,” she retorts. 

“That was one time.”

“You never told me how that was by the way,” standing up from her seat and placing a hand on her hip.

“I didn’t?”

“No, you just told me that he bought a scope and then you had sex.”

“That’s basically what happened.”

“…But how was it?” she says.

“Hot… but also kind of awkward. That’s usually how one-night stands tend to go,” you say, setting a vase on the last table. 

“And you’re okay with that? I didn’t take you for a one-night stand type of gal.”

“I mean… I’ll never see him again.”

She’s standing in front of you, the river behind her and the wind catching her hair. She doesn’t respond to you right away, looking past your head and wearing a smirk. 

“What is it?”

“Are you sure about that?” 

“Sure about what?”

“Turn around.”

You glance over your shoulder to find him, walking towards you. The sunset reflects off his helmet and the scene is almost… surreal. You were just talking about him and all of a sudden he appears. It’s like a scene straight out of a romance novel. 

Until he opens his mouth. 

“I went to your house and I couldn’t find you. I need something else.”

“…Okay? What is it that you need?”

“A blaster.”

“Alright…” you say, turning back to Sheva, “I’ll be back later, I guess.”

“Have so much fun,” she says smugly, waving at Mando. 

You walk back to your house side by side, silence hanging in the air which leaves you with your thoughts. 

Why is he here?

Dantooine is on a trade route but the planet itself is out of the way and so is Casia. 

“Why are you here?” you ask. 

“I already told you. I need a blaster.”

“You can’t get that anywhere else?”

“Are you saying you don’t want my business?”

“No, I’m not saying that at all. I’m just wondering why you came here specifically. Where are you from?”

“Currently I’m on Nevarro.”

Maker, that’s far. It doesn’t make sense for him to come all this way for a blaster. 

…Unless he came here for other reasons. 

You think back to the one-night stand and while it was a little awkward it was still hot. Maybe he feels the same way. 

“That’s quite a ways away from here, Mando,” you point out. 

“Your prices are fair.”

“Right…” you say, opening your front door. 

Luckily, the smell of gas has dissipated over the past few weeks. Not that it mattered to him. But if this encounter is going to end like the last one, it’s nice to not have to smell that while Mando’s pounding the living daylights out of you. 

Your front room is crowded, filled with boxes and all sorts of weapons lining the walls. He looks all around the room, not sure what to focus on first. 

“I’ve… accumulated a lot more stuff since you’ve been here.”

“I see that,” he says. 

“What kind of blaster are you looking for?”

“Standard pistol.”

“Gotcha,” you say, searching one of your shelves. You find one he might like– black with a tiny amount of silver. You grab it off the shelf and turn around to show him. 

“How’s this one?”

“Perfect. How much.”

“Four hundred credits.”

“Not a bad deal,” he says, taking it in his hands. He examines the blaster carefully, the orange fingertips of his gloves running up and down the barrel. His hand wraps around the grip with his finger ghosting the trigger. He aims it at the wall, and for some reason, this is doing something for you. Is this how he felt when he watched you clean his rifle?

“Feels good?”

“Feels good,” he affirms. 

“Okay…” you start as he attaches it to his belt, “Do you need anything else?”

“Actually,” he says, helmet snapping back to you, “Do you have any of that… oil you used on my rifle?”

“Wow. Are you actually going to clean your shit?”

“…Yes.”

“You don’t want me to do it for you?”

He shifts his weight between both feet just like he did the last time he was here, fidgeting while he thinks of a comeback. But his mind draws a blank. Instead, he sighs and says, “Just get on your back already.”

Your mouth falls open but you can’t let him know of your bewilderment. So you quickly say, “Thought you’d never ask.”

You turn on your heel and lead him to your bedroom, swaying your hips as you walk. He wastes no time, grabbing you by the waist and pushing you down on the bed. You help him out, pulling off your underwear for him. He hesitates for a moment and you just assume it’ll be the same as last time, you spit into your hand and he shoves his cock inside you. 

But this time he stands by the bed, hands on his hips, and says, “Get up.”

“…Okay?” you say, wondering where he’s going with this. 

He grabs your waist again and turns you around so your back is towards him. 

“Bend over,” he growls in your ear. 

So that’s how this is going to go. 

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” you say, bending over your bed for him and turning your head to the side, cheek resting against the mattress. 

He hikes up your skirt and caresses your ass with his gloved hand. Just when you think you know how this is going to shake out, he surprises you. 

He tosses his glove beside your head and it takes a second for you to register that he took his glove off. Your mouth falls open and he mutters, “Good girl.”

He leans forward, bending over you, and says, “Close your eyes.”

You do as you’re told, closing your eyes while his gloved hand grips your chin, keeping your mouth open while he places two fingers inside. 

“Suck,” he commands, closing your mouth shut around his fingers. 

Kriff, that’s hot. 

You swirl your tongue around his fingers, putting on an obscene performance. And although you can’t see it, he cocks his helmet to the side, watching you act like such a good girl for him. Once he decides you’ve done enough, he pulls his fingers from your mouth. You make sure to keep your eyes closed as you anticipate what he’s going to do next. 

His fingers tease your entrance, softly playing with you until he slides both of them inside you. You gasp at the sudden girth, taking a second to get adjusted.

“If you can take my cock, you can take two of my fingers,” he reminds you, curling his fingers against your walls. 

“I-I know,” you breathe out, voice high pitched. 

He’s incredibly skilled with his fingers. You’re already on your way to your first orgasm. It makes sense since he can’t take his helmet off. And you’re certainly not complaining.

The tension built up in your core spills over and your release gushes out of you, running down your thighs. Waves of pleasure course throughout your body and you’re shocked at how soon he got you there. 

He pulls his fingers from you, grabbing your shoulder with his other hand. You feel his cock enter you, splitting you open and leaving you writhing. His other hand grabs your waist as he fucks you like you’re nothing but a toy to him, an object made for his pleasure. Except the way he fingered you tells you otherwise. 

You’re too cock drunk to formulate a coherent thought about that. Instead, you focus on the immense pleasure you’re feeling. Everything from the tips of your ears to your toes feels like they’re set aflame, mind going fuzzy with nothing but thoughts of him. 

“That’s right. Take my cock like a good girl,” he says, voice all sultry and modulated.

You whimper in response, the words you were going to say caught in your throat and coming out as mangled sobs. His grip on your shoulder tightens, holding you in place as he rails you. Stars dance in the black backdrop of your closed eyes, tears would surely spill over if you opened them. But he said to keep your eyes closed and you intend to listen to him. He didn’t ask you to do that last time. Could it be because his glove came off? Because he revealed his skin? You’ve seen his cock but for some reason his hand is off-limits. How strange. The added element of anonymity during a time so intimate excites you. It only makes you grow wetter; more aroused. 

Before you know it, you’re coming again. This orgasm is deeper and stronger than the first one, all thanks to his impressive size. Your cunt clenches and releases his cock in a way that triggers his orgasm too. He holds you steady as he spills his cum inside you, a feeling you didn’t know you missed in his absence, a feeling you didn’t know you’d ever experience again. 

He pulls out of you when he’s done and it isn’t until you feel him sit on the bed beside you that you open your eyes. His glove is back on his hand and he sits with his thighs spread wide, a space that looks so inviting to sit. He takes a moment to rest after the energy he just exerted before rising, waiting for you to pull yourself together.

You stand before him, smoothing down your skirt while looking at anything but the visor of his helmet. He stands stiff as a board, hands balled up into fists at his sides. A thought crosses your mind. You could ask him to join you at the party at the cantina. It seems kind of pointless considering he can’t eat or drink in front of others. And he doesn’t seem like one for dancing. 

But you want to ask him just so you can be seen out in public with him, other than bringing him to your house. That feels a little insane, a little possessive even. You’re not in any sort of relationship. You’ve only had sex twice now. And you’re developing an inkling of feelings. This can’t be good. 

Come on, Athalia. You can ask him. 

“What are you doing now?”

“Probably heading out soon.”

“I was just wondering if…” you trail off. 

He tilts his helmet, looking directly at you. You finally meet his visor, taking a deep breath and asking, “Do you want to come to the party at the cantina tonight?”

“That’s a nice offer. But no thanks.”

“That’s okay…”

He turns to leave but you can’t let him go just yet. 

“Wait! Can I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

“Why did you come all the way here? You could’ve gotten that blaster anywhere.”

“Your prices seemed fair. It looks like it was worth it, too. Your inventory has grown.”

“Right… Let me get you that cleansing oil before you go.”

You slide past him in the door frame, heart fluttering at being so close to him yet again. His visor watches you the whole time and you imagine it’s still fixated on you as you lead him to the front room. You open the cabinet and grab the cleansing oil while he fishes for the credits in his pocket.

“How much?”

“Ten for the oil.”

You turn around and hand it to him. He places the credits for both the blaster and the oil in your hand, nodding at you with the slight tip of his helmet before walking to the door. 

But he stops himself before he leaves. He turns around and says, “I never got your name.”

“Athalia.”

“Thanks. I’ve got some contacts looking to come this way but I wasn’t sure who they should be asking for.”

New customers.

“That’s nice of you!” you say, fiddling with your hands, “I guess you could call it… Athalia’s Arms.”

“Athalia’s Arms… Got it. I’m sure we’ll meet again,” he says, before opening the door and setting off into the night, cape billowing in the wind. 

He claims he was just here to buy something but… Could that be a lie? Is he feeling an inkling of something more like you are? He did turn down your offer to go to the party tonight but if it were really just about the blasters, wouldn’t he have gotten that literally anywhere else? Coming here must’ve cost him so much in fuel. 

Maybe just maybe there’s something there, crossing the line between a business owner and customer relationship, turning into something deeper and more meaningful. 

That’s exactly what’s happening. Because deep down you’re a little butthurt that he didn’t say yes to the party, that he didn’t even stay with you for a little bit after the sex. 

You shouldn’t care. He’s just a client, just a customer… Right? 

Wrong, he was never just a customer. He was always something more and he’ll remain something more if you don’t put a stop to it before you only get yourself hurt. 

You need to talk to Sheva about this, so you decide to pop back into the party alone. It’s well past sundown now and it makes you wonder how long you were with Mando. There’s a breeze in the air that leaves goosebumps on your skin and there’s not a single soul around. 

As you get closer to the cantina you see that… the party’s over. Everyone has left. 

For once, you don’t want to be alone and yet it’s like the universe is forcing you to. Sheva’s either at home sleeping or hooking up with someone from the party. And Sulee has been in bed for hours at this point. 

You sigh and turn around to head home, head hanging low while you’re left to reflect. He crossed the galaxy to buy a standard blaster and to bury his cock inside you. And that just has to mean something. 

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics

Tag list: @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @freelancearsonist @djarins-cyare @survivingandenduring @littlegrungegirlaf @pamasaur @chiyo13 @pedrostories @schnarfer @burntheedges

#stonecatcher #din djarin smut #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x oc #din djarin x original female character #din djarin x ofc #din djarin x you #din djarin #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian smut #star wars fanfiction #the mandalorian x oc

[brucewaynehater101]

I want Duke included in batfam family fics. being the older sibling Damian needs, relatable yet guiding. Tim being ‘Dukes robin’ and having lots of respect for Tim yet he’d also steal his slice of pie. Duke and Jason hanging out, and Jason appreciating how he never tries to lecture him. Duke and dick matching vibes (or as much as they can) when on patrol and somewhat in the family, and both trying to make their brothers calm tf down. Bruce trying desperately to not fuck up with Duke like he did his other sons, only serving to confuse and slightly alarm Duke. Alfred and duke being the only ones with more then *1* braincell.

he also has so much potential for angst of being a meta in a family everyone thinks hates metas, and people somehow forget him???

(I have more just don’t have the energy to write it all down)

Heck yes! I agree that Duke needs to be included in more batfam fics (and especially as a more pivotal role). I personally try to add him a bit, but I fear I do not include him enough as a key member of the batfam.

Duke is hella important and should be treated as such. I'd love to see more fics with him pissing off GCPD for fun. Just chaos and pranks against GCPD, rogues, Batman, and the Batkids. Also, he should he allowed to punch (or kick) as many JL members as he pleases (Hal was just the first).

Duke and Dick having similar fashion ideas is a cute idea I've seen in the fandom. I would also just love to see more fanart of Duke rocking some fun outfits for galas (especially if the galas follow the AU of Gotham being super weird with their social norms). Duke being featured on magazine covers, being asked to model, and being interviewed would be cool fanwork ideas to play around with. I've seen so many of the other batboys and none with Duke as a magazine cover.

Here's my ideas on how Duke could interact with different batfam members. Feel free to reblog if you have ideas yourself or think the dynamic should be different.

I feel like Duke and Cass would get along really well as chaos gremlins who get away with their shenanigans. Messing with Commissioner Gordon is a favorite pass time of theirs. For some reason, even when presented with evidence, Bruce doesn't believe that Duke and Cass would do the things they get away with. It's both impressive and annoying to the other batkids.

Duke could have a weird relationship with Tim. On one hand, Tim is Duke's Robin. The cases he's solved, feats he's accomplished, and respect Gotham has for Tim's Robin in general (for being Batman's therapy kid) are unfathomable. On the other hand, he's seen Tim walk into the same wall four times within three minutes. They both share a love for riddles, but Tim can be an idiot at interpersonal relationships.

For Damian, Duke has seen how the world picks up kids and spits them out. He's seen kids lashing out, how they merely want to defend themselves, and how fantastic they are once you get to know them. He's been angry and spiteful at the world too. For Damian, Duke's hella impressed at the kid's heart despite all the shit he's been dealt. Duke would encourage chaos, talk with the kid about how different emotions have impacted Duke's actions and life, and is an overall supportive figure. They can often be seen doing both wild stunts and "common for their age group" activities for fun (although the game Sorry is banned because of them).

Jason and Duke would probably have a complicated relationship due to Red Hood's actions. Their similar childhoods (as far as economically and location based) would lead to jokes and shared customs that they chat with Steph about (such as Creepy Toe Joe or that specific gas station or the phrase they say as they passed that one pothole). Despite that, they have different viewpoints on Bruce and murder.

Duke is probably one of the more emotionally intelligent and communicative batfam members. If Alfred is the sassy version, Duke would get a good laugh out of those remarks and the astute observations.

Bruce and Duke angst could go hard. Bruce is trying so hard not to make his past mistakes. Duke and his perception of Bruce (he holds Bruce in high regard) and how that affects their relationship.

As far as Duke being in a "perceived to hate metas" family, that could either be hilarious or angst. I imagine people trying to intervene or "save" Duke from the Bats would be infuriating and sad to see.

Duke could also laugh at the batkids' superhero friends and how they, even as adults, are banned from entering Gotham. Duke is free to live in the manor and come and go as he pleases. Any of the batkid's meta friends have to be snuck into Gotham.

#dc comics #dc universe #duke thomas #thank you for the ask!!!!

[mochegato]

Forever Yours

It was bad. She knew it had to be bad. Why else wouldn't they have heard anything?  Why else would they keep her... them!  Keep them in the dark?  They wouldn't.  Unless there was a reason not to tell them... like something really bad had happened and they were trying to mitigate the fallout.

This was far from Adrien’s first mission for the Justice League.  They both frequently worked with various members.  It wasn’t even his first mission without Marinette.  In fact, they went on missions without one another a lot.  But there was just something about going on a two-person mission behind the Order’s worst enemy’s lines with someone neither Adrien nor Marinette knew well… or fully trusted if she was being honest, that kicked up the nerves.

It was supposed to be a quick mission.  “Two hours max”, they said.  “In and out,” they said.  “No real danger,” they lied.  But that was twelve hours and quite a few anxiety spirals ago.  The muscles in her hands were starting to cramp from her fidgeting, her fingers curling and flexing over and over like a compulsion.  She had paced around Mia’s apartment so many times, the carpet was beginning to show an indent from her perpetual path.

“It’ll be fine,” Dick assured her.  “Lack of information doesn't mean anything.  It's just standard operating procedure, really, especially for Constantine.”

Marinette shot him a flat, almost disgusted look.  “It’s standard procedure when something goes wrong,” she explained slowly, annoyance starting to seep through.  “No contact for twelve hours on a ‘two hour max’ mission, is NOT standard operating procedure.”

Dick held up his hands.  “I’m just saying I don’t think there’s a reason to panic yet.”

Zatanna sighed almost grudgingly.  She glared at Dick as she spoke up.  “I will admit, missions with Constantine often end like this.  Things get off track and I don’t think he ever communicates with anyone.  It’s kind of a blackout whenever you go out with him.”

Dick rapidly in agreement.  “Exactly!  It isn’t worth the worry.  I just think you should take a breath, let it out slowly, and relax.”  To his credit, Marinette did stop pacing, but it was to stare dumbfounded at him. 

Meanwhile, Roy let out a loud breath, almost a scoff, and dropped his head, but Mia was far more vocal.  “Did you just tell her to calm down?” she demanded.  “While she’s in the middle of an anxiety attack?”

Dick looked around, eyes wide.  “What?  No!”  He whipped around to face her.  “I would never… I just thought… It’s not productive to just pace here.  I thought maybe you might want to go home and relax.”

“Maybe you should go home,” Marinette snapped.

He looked around helplessly for anybody to back him up but nobody would meet his eyes, everyone looking determinedly away.  Finally, he nodded and took a seat meekly.  Marinette glared a few more seconds before returning to her circuit and abusing her lips and hands once again.

Roy watched her make a few more rounds before reaching his limit.  If she chewed any harder on her lip, she was going to draw blood.   Marinette was declining and he was not about to just sit back and let it continue.  Her purse had been tossed onto the coffee table in front of her so he took the opportunity to search through it until he found what he was looking for.  Like any artist, there was a sundry assemblage of drawing utensils at the bottom of her bag, always ready for when inspiration strikes and always too caught up in the euphoria of capturing their vision to put it away properly.

There were colored pencils, pens, markers, acrylic based markers, paint sticks, he even found a few crayons that he knew were likely for Alya’s infant.  He rummaged around for a few seconds before pulling out his target.  He waited until she passed by again to grab her arm and pull her onto the couch next to him.  She barely had a chance to scowl at him and snap, before he held the Sharpie from her bag out to her with one hand.  The other hand he settled across her lap, his bare, clean forearm facing up.

Marinette looked between the sharpie and his forearm, her brow furrowing further with each flick.  She finally lifted her eyes to his, the furrow deeply embedded and a light frown pulling down her lips.  “What are you doing?”

“You’re freaking out,” he said, like that was in any way an adequate or even logical answer to her question.  She blinked at him, utterly dumbfounded.  The completely nonsensical nature of his response knocked her out of her anxiety spiral, at least temporarily, allowing her to focus on his words.  But being able to focus didn’t help at all because no matter how much she focused on his words, she couldn’t make sense of it.  When she still hadn’t responded after a while, he continued, “You relax when you draw.  I don’t have paper, but you can use my skin.”

Her eyes flickered back and forth between his face and his forearm.  “What?”

He waved the sharpie again and motioned toward his forearm, flexing it as he did to accentuate it.  “Use my arm as your canvas.  Get your anxiety out with it.”

“Really?” she asked uncertainly.  “Are you sure?”

He smirked and leaned closer as he waggled his eyebrows.  “I mean, I’m willing to give you other ways to work out your anxiety…” he chuckled at the scowl she shot him, but his expression quickly softened into something more sincere.  “You can use me however you want, Fire Flower.  If what you want to use me for is as a drawing pad, I’m here for you.”

Marinette groaned and rolled her eyes but shot him a small smile as she grabbed the sharpie and repositioned herself so she faced him.  He could see it as soon as she got into position, the way her mind instantly settled, and a calm washed over her.  It was like the sharpie flipped a switch in her and gave her mind purpose.  Her entire body relaxed.  All the tension that had been building up for hours dissolved once she had a focus.

The moment the felt tip touched his skin, he could feel her exhale.  She held the sharpie in the spot for just a moment before gliding it up into a delicate but simple design.  She was drawing for a few minutes before he heard a whispered, “Thank you.”

The grateful tone in her voice, and maybe the way she was almost sitting in his lap or the way he could feel each exhale fan out over his skin, spread a warmth through his body like a wildfire.  He leaned forward to drop a lingering kiss on the crown of her head.  “Always,” he whispered into her hair.

Her hand faltered slightly at the contact, disrupting the line she had been drawing and breaking the perfect stroke, but she recovered almost flawlessly.  She almost seemed unaffected by the move otherwise, but after a few more seconds, she leaned her body against him and rested her head on his chest.  The movement almost seemed thoughtless, like a natural movement, made without taking her focus from her art.

She was too focused to notice the reaction in the room to their intimate proximity, but Roy wasn’t.  He was all too aware of the looks and knowing smiles.  It was a familiar sight.  Because this was a familiar position for them.  Not the drawing on the skin, but the familiarity and affection.  He had been harassed more than once about it.  But it hadn’t worked yet, and it wasn’t going to work that night either.  He glared at them with a one finger salute to make sure they knew it too.

><><><><><><><><>< 

It had been two weeks since Adrien had returned from his mission, a bit disheveled, a bit tired, and quite a bit traumatized.  But he had returned.  And most surprisingly, uninjured… physically anyway.  He still shuddered whenever he saw a headband and Marinette was positive she did not want to know the story behind that trauma.  Perhaps more disturbingly, since that mission she would occasionally find him staring blankly until she would shake him out of it.

So that night, there was a new mission: Cheer Adrien Up.  All of their friends in the area were invited to the party.  She’d ordered his favorite food and gotten Adrien’s favorite games and movies ready, she was even considering letting him win a few of them… maybe.

Maybe not.  Because not everybody else seemed to have that perspective.  A few… okay, maybe just one, brought their competitive spirit and once they started, she just couldn’t back down, especially when Roy started trash talking her.

That was NOT something she could let slide.  Roy didn’t need the ego boost and she refused to give up her gaming crown.

They were midway though their sixth head-to-head battle, everyone else having decided watching them play was far more fun than playing themselves, controllers held so tightly knuckles were white, both sitting on the very edge of their seats and still leaning forward to get closer, eyes for nothing but the screen and each other, and yet somehow the tension was getting even higher.

She smirked at him when a particularly creative combination caught him off guard and knocked his player down quite a few percentage points.  Unwilling to back down, he narrowed his eyes and pushed his sleeves up to remove any distractions.  However, the result was the opposite.  Marinette stared at his arm, the controller going lax in her hands.  She didn’t even notice when the game ended announcing his first win.  Roy jumped up and yelled in celebration, turning to Marinette to rub it in, but froze at the look on her face.  Her eyes snapped to his and without saying a word, she grabbed him and dragged him out of the room, still oblivious to the whispers and grins of the people around them.

She pulled him into her room, her hand a vice grip on his wrist.  As soon as the door was closed behind them, she rounded on him and shoved his sleeve up to his elbow before he could even react, exposing his newly healed, freshly inked forearm.  She stared at it for a few seconds, her eyes following the lines before lifting them up to him accusatorily.  “Is this… Did you get my drawing tattooed on your arm?”

“Yeah, a few weeks ago.”  He grinned proudly at her, not oblivious to her accusatory glare, if anything, it made his grin widen.  “Like it?”

Her face scrunched in an incredulous expression.  The action itself was baffling, but the cocky reaction was driving her from bewilderment to indignation.  “Why did you get this?”

His smile stayed firmly in place, but it eased into something softer.  “I liked it,” he shrugged like it was a no-brainer, an obvious resolution.  “I liked the way it looked on my skin, so I inked it.”

She let out a long-suffering breath, something of a cross between a sigh and a groan and pulled his arm closer to study it.  The tattoo was an almost perfect replica of her design.  The intensity of brush strokes was duplicated, heavier where she’d pushed harder with the marker, thinner where she’d almost ghosted the marker over his skin.  Her fingers traced the design with an almost reverent wonder.  She paused at an irregularity in an otherwise smooth, unbroken line.  “You even got where I messed up,” she murmured.

“Well, yeah,” he shrugged, extremely careful not to dislodge his arm from her grasp.  “It’s part of the memory.  It’s one of my favorite parts of the design, actually,” he added quietly.

She continued to stare at the imperfection, almost transfixed for a few moments before finally lifting her eyes to his, stealing the breath from his lungs from the awestricken look in her eyes.  He raised his other arm to wrap around her waist but dropped it when she finally spoke before he could make contact.  “What the hell were you thinking?” she demanded, her voice low and hissing.

He quirked his head to the side at the unexpected tone, taking a second to ascertain if she was serious.  “It’s beautiful and I want a piece of you on me forever…” he dropped his eyes to his tattoo, not only as a way to avoid her eyes but to seek a source of reinforcement before continuing with a bit more vulnerability than he usually showed, “and maybe I wanted you to mark me.”

It took a few seconds before he looked up to meet her eyes, hoping to see an affectionate gaze, but instead Marinette was staring daggers at him.  “That is the dumbest thing you’ve ever said!” she exclaimed, shoving his arm back at him.  She paced away and ran her hands through her hair before turning back to him, her eyes no longer blazing, now closer to pleading.  “You’re a hero!  You have incredibly dangerous enemies!  You can’t just…” she motioned helplessly toward his arm then threw her arms up in the air in frustration.  “If someone saw that, they’d know who you were.  They could trace your identity because of me!”

He stared at her dumbfounded for a few seconds before chuckling.  Cautiously, he approached her like he was afraid she might run away… or hit him.  “This is the most romantic thing I’ve ever done and you’re yelling at me?” he asked incredulously, eyes dancing with mirth.

“Dying is not romantic!” she yelled, pushing him away.  “You could get hurt because of me.  It would be my fault you were hurt!”  His chuckles died down at the tortured look in her eyes and the desperate tone to her voice.

He moved to her instantly, wrapping his arms around her before he’d even thought about it, unwilling to let her suffer at all, especially if he could comfort her.  He held her tighter when she didn’t pull away.  After a few moments he leaned back and ducked his head to catch her gaze.  “Marinette, Baby, have you seen my other tattoos?” he asked softly.  “Fire Flower, if I was going to get recognized for a tattoo, it’s probably the massive, conspicuous ones on my completely exposed biceps, not the one covered by my gloves that are part of my costume and that I never skip when I go out.”

She stared at him looking for the lie in his words.  Finding none, she shook her head and looked down gathering her thoughts, which clearly didn’t go in his favor based on her dipping out of his embrace and groaning.  “Roy, we’re not even together!”

His mouth lifted into a smile.  That response meant she had accepted that she hadn’t put him in danger.  Now, he just needed to convince her that he knew what his action implied and he meant it.  “We don’t need to be together for me to love you,” he answered simply. 

Marinette opened her mouth then closed it again with a groan and ran her hands through her hair.  “You can’t just say things like that,” she whined.

He edged towards her again as his smile morphed into something closer to a smirk.  “The truth?”

“Yes!  No!  Wait.”  She let out an exasperated huff then pouted at his widening grin.  She shoved him again, but with much less conviction this time.  “Stop smiling at me!”

He stepped closer to her, a move that forced her to crane her neck in order to continue to meet his eyes.  “No.  I like when you get flustered.”  He ghosted a finger over her cheek, keeping his touch just shy of making contact but close enough she could feel the movement in the air.  His eyes met hers in an intense gaze.  “I like everything about you.” 

The air left her lungs when he finally made fiery contact, running his knuckles along her jaw this time.  His eyes roamed over her face like he was memorizing every curve and contour, they caught on her cheeks when they flared the most delectable shade of pink, the shade quickly became his favorite color, until he met her eyes again and remembered that shade of blue was his favorite.

“Even if we never get together, I know I’ll always care about you.  You will always be important to me.  You are already carved into my soul.  The tattoo might be more visible, but that?”  He laid a hand over his heart and shook his head adoringly.  “There’s no amount of time or separation or drifting apart or conflict that will take that away.  I won’t regret this.  Not tomorrow, not next week, not next year, not next lifetime.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, his heart racing when she went to him easily.  “Do you know why that irregularity in the line is my favorite part of the design?”  It seemed like it took her a few seconds for her to snap out of her trance and register his words.  She shook her head slowly, refusing to break eye contact.  “Because it happened as a reaction to me.  I did that.  I had that effect on you.  My kiss did.  It was the moment I knew.”

“Knew what?” she asked, her voice soft, almost like she was afraid anything rougher would burst their intimate bubble.

“That I had to act,” he answered in the same tone.  “I got the tattoo because I wanted you forever on my body, like you’re forever in my heart, and what I want now is you forever in my life.  I’m tired of waiting for the exact right moment for it to happen.  I’m tired of waiting for fate or destiny or whatever is out there to provide.  I’m taking my fate.  I’m creating my own destiny and that’s you.  A lifetime of happiness and teasing and laughter and loving together.”

He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear to give her a few moments to let his words sink in, let her internalize them, and consider them fully.  “The question is, what do you want?”

She stared at him dumbfounded.  The idea of acting was scary.  They had always danced along the edge of doing more, flirting with each other and with crossing the line.  They’d always shied away just before tipping over.  There was so much that was at risk if they did.  They were always together, either as part of their larger friend group or by themselves.  If anything happened, Marinette didn’t know how she would be able to experience each day.  But the prospect of not acting was even more terrifying.

She pushed up to brush her lips against his tentatively.  Even after his most ardent declaration, she was still apprehensive of how he would react, terrified he would suddenly realize this wasn’t what he wanted.  She wasn’t what he wanted.  But before her mind could sabotage her, he wound his hand behind her head, running his fingers into her hair and pulling her harder against him to intensify the kiss.  His lips moved greedily against hers like he was afraid he would never get the chance again, almost devouring her.  She responded instantly, pulling his body against hers by his shirt then sliding her hands up his chest in part to settle the electricity that was humming through her veins.

After a long, highly pleasurable, while he pulled away just enough to press his forehead to hers, his breathing, like hers, ragged.  “I think I want that,” she panted.  She opened her eyes to find his already staring at her.  The hope in his eyes stole her breath and steeled her resolve.  “I want that version of forever.”

His responding grin lit up the dim room.  “Let’s start tonight.  Will you go on a date with me?”

She opened her mouth to respond but instead of her voice, Adrien’s floated through the apartment.  “Dinner’s here!”  She snickered and dropped her head to his chest for a few seconds before looking back up, resigned but happy.  “I’d love to, tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Roy agreed.  He pecked her lips quickly and led her out to the party, fingers intertwined and smile beaming.

@maribat-calendar-events

#maribat #roynette #arrow april #prompt - tattoo

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for asking my friend to stop saying 'me too' whenever I'm talking about my problems?

My friend is someone I'm relatively close with and I know has anxiety that she struggles with, so I'm not saying she doesn't understand pain or issues. But every time I muster the courage to mention the trust issues that I have because my mom passed away when I was 10 and I just have this permanent fear of losing everyone, she's just like 'I know right, like I literally don't trust anyone. It's like a problem' And then proceeds to spill her guts to me for like an hour. Which is perfectly fine, I'm glad she trusts me, but she also does this whenever I'm talking about how I don't like to talk about my own emotions. Another trauma response honestly, since the last thing my parents needed when I was a kid was my stupid emotions and none of the other 2nd graders wanted hear about my dying mom so I learned not to talk about it. But she just treats it almost as a joke, an offhand remark about how much her life sucks. Like she talks about how she never sleeps and science homework is the worst thing in the world. I don't want to sound like I feel superior, but I feel like our world views are just different. It's rare that things bother me, since I feel like I just understand that there are more important things, and the way she compares her important things to mine just feels unnecessary. And all this really rubs me the wrong way. I find it very hard to be anyone but myself, and I don't want to ruin our friendship, but I also can't go on just pretending her actions don't bother me and make me clam up even more. So would I be the asshole if I tried to bring up my concerns with her?

(Btw, I only brought up the personal reasons behind my issues to give more context as to why I felt offended she was acting like our situations were one in the same, not to try and get you to pity me or anything. Please don't take that into account. I just know she talks to me about almost everything in her life, and none of it truly seems like it would cause many of the issues she claims to have but never really showcases. She could still have these issues, obviously, but she just really doesn't seem to and never brings it up unless I do first and then cuts me off to mention herself)

#aita #am i the asshole

[hiskillingjar]

can i get a fem ren forcefemming a transmasc reader 😭 for legal reason i am a transmasc with *that* kink but if you don't wanna do it then i understand cause most people would frown upon on me with this 😭😭😭😭

no shame!! forcefem is hot and there's nothing wrong with finding it hot <3

1000+ words, cw for light misgendering (it's for kinky reasons). this too is toxic yuri

"This doesn't really feel right," 

Your voice was a soft murmur as Ren brushed your hair in the bathroom mirror, her tail swiftly wagging to and fro behind her as she did so.

There was an eager little smile on her pixie-sweet face, and you knew she was absolutely revelling in how much your hair had grown while you were in her captivity, long enough that it was beginning to curl around your neck and drag over your shoulders

She had a preference for a more...feminine presentation, and she didn't make it a secret in the slightest. 

"You don't like it? Really? But your hair is gorgeous~!" Ren cooed playfully, moving the brush away from your hair and turning you around to face her, that dumb smirk still on her face. “I would seriously kill to have hair like yours, so long and thick, ugh! I’m so jealous.”

"I'd…really prefer it if I could cut my hair," You mumbled when you peered towards her shyly, ducking your head down and brushing a long lock of hair behind your ear. 

You had known girls back in college like you, growing their hair out awkwardly, heavy bangs, hiding their faces, not yet soft enough to pass as well as you had back then. You had felt a sense of kinship with those girls before, but even more so now. 

"Like, the length of it…” You continued, reaching up to tug where it was longest. “It makes me kind of…dysphoric, you know..."

Ren frowned a little as you spoke, her ears tipping back and her tail stopping its wags. 

Your request was reasonable, you thought so anyway, and you knew that she was suitably plugged into “the discourse” regarding your transmasculinity and gender dysphoria and things like that to understand why it make you feel so uncomfortable.

She had bought you testosterone off the dark web, for God’s sake. She must have seen you as-

"...but I like your hair the way it is." Ren replied in a small voice with a childish pout to her full lips, seeming almost... offended that you had even asked. “It looks pretty.

"I know that," You said with a sigh, rolling your eyes. You knew she was very particular about what she liked (how you looked), and probably didn't appreciate you not catering to her every desire. She was so...needy sometimes. And so demanding too. "But...you get it, right? You know why I want to do it.” You looked back into the mirror with a frown. “It makes me look so...girly."

"But that's exactly what's so adorable about you."

Ren's eyes narrowed when you looked away, her face morphing back into a smile as she peered at you over your shoulder.

"You're a femboy. Of course, you’re going to look girly~"

"Don't call me that," You replied curtly, quickly looking back towards her, your face flushed and your expression angry. "That's...like, super fucking demeaning and offensive, Ren, whatever it is you’re trying to say-"

“Huh.” Ren cut you off and stood back, considering you for a moment with a wry tilt of her head. "You get…pretty upset when I call you a femboy, don't you?"

"Obviously," You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms with a huff. "It’s like…if you were offended at being called a…jail bait or a ‘legal loli’, or something.” She snorted with amusement and let out a high cackle of a laugh, obviously not taking the insult to heart like you did. Lucky her. “It's like you see me as a porno category or something...it's insulting."

“Well, sure, maybe it’s insulting if you take it that way,” She replied airily, both her hands behind her back as she took a few steps closer to you, her tail wagging again. “But you are a femboy. Just don’t take it so personally.” She grinned, showing off wet fangs. “You’re a feminine boy, hence, ‘femboy’. I’m just calling you what you are~”

“Yeah, well, it’s not my choice to look feminine, okay?” You bit back, pushing past her to sit on the rim of the bathtub, your head in your hands, long hair covering your face "If you let me cut my fucking hair again, maybe I wouldn’t-"

"You mean, if I allowed you the privilege of making yourself ugly for me?

You flinched as you felt Ren push a hand into your hair, pulling a grip of it hard and forcing your eyes up to hers, golden and shining with malicious intent.

"And why would I do that?” Her grin broadened. “I don’t know about you, but I'm very much enjoying looking at a pretty girl right now~"

Your face flushed a little darker and you bit down hard on your lip, trying your best to look away, so she didn’t see how much she was getting to you.

"I'm not a girl, Ren..." You murmured hotly.

"Are you sure?" Ren smirked, her fingers (her painted claws) running through strands of hair as she pulled your head up slightly, her curled fist at the base of your skull. “You know…you say you feel like a boy inside, but you definitely don't act like it.”

"Well...what would a boy act like?" You asked with a defensive glare. "If I'm not acting like one..."

"Maybe you'd put up more of a fight~" Ren teased, as she moved her free hand to your chin so she could tilt your head up slightly and meet your gaze more directly. "...You're not fighting me very hard right now. And I’m, like, way weaker and shorter than you. Maybe you secretly like being called a girl?"

"No…" You murmued, trying to pulls back from her grip.

“It’s easier though, isn’t it?” She asked, with a thoughtful tilt of her head, not letting you pull away, even an inch. She was stronger than she looked, no matter what she said to the contrary. “To not have to work so hard, to give in, to let everything just…happen to you, right? That’s kind of, like,” She paused with a thoughtful expression before laughing again. “The only perk to being a girl, you know.”

You were quiet as she pressed closer, the wisps of her short hair (because she was allowed to have short hair and you weren’t) caressing your cheek as her pixie-pointed nose pressed lightly against yours.

“You should try it…or, well, go back to it.” She tittered, rubbing her thumb over your stubbly chin. At least she let you keep your stubble (but for how long?) "Because you look like a girl. You act like a girl. You take everything way too fucking seriously like a girl.” 

She brought her face close to yours, her breath warm on your flushed skin.

Her lips barely grazed yours, menacing, taunting.

"I bet you’d taste like a girl, too, if I kissed you."

“I-If?”

"If." 

#ren hana #ren x mc #ren x reader #qs #drabbles #ren btd #trans people into forcefem. come here. i'm kissing you

[williamkisser]

🐟> A Poem Worth of Remembering: Orpheus x reader

[🎣] word count: 1371

[🎣] warnings: g/n reader, fic turning into headcanons, fluffy, ooc Orpheus, i don’t even write for him ⚰️⚰️

[🎣] author’s note: Lord… it’s been SO much time since my last fic. I’m very sorry for the break since so much stuff happened both in real life as well as here (rip in piss, williaml0ver account </3) I originally had slightly diffrent plans for my comeback post yet i simply couldn’t miss this wonderful opportunity. Happy birthday to my AMAZING POOKIE which i dedicate this fic to! Thank you for being the first person to welcome and support me on here:)

EVERYBODY SAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY @fishermanshook @octopaii !!

Ah…?

You slowly woke up after what it seems like a long nap. Nobody would be surprised, however! Who WOULDN’T be tired after such a romantic date? Oh yes… you get it now. Earlier today, your dear long time boyfriend, the novelist Orpheus took you into a forest near Oletus Manor - you felt slightly confused until you noticed a big table and two chairs with fancy carvings on them, surrounded by many roses and carefully placed decorations. That’s how he wanted to celebrate the birthday of the love of his life, in solitude and peace. He truly appreciated privacy.

Orpheus, surprisingly, never was the type of person who’d be very extravagant, despite the funds from his art certainly made him one of the wealthier people in the manor. Whenever your birthday was approaching, you’d wake up to a breakfast in bed, with thoughtful note attached. Later that day, you’d receive a trinket, such as a small necklace, sometimes even a special poem. He’s someone who wants to make his partner feel special all the time, not only on some occasions, hence the birthday gifts were never exactly all over the place, lavish gestures, not like if you mind, of course. What was possibly be the reason for this exception today?

Whatever the cause was, you felt flabbergasted. A nice, warm noon you could spend with your boyfriend. It was all yours, you could discuss everything, not worrying he’d go away to focus on his work. Today it’s all about you. You’ve spend so much time together, simply talking about worries, hopes, thoughts… life, at some point you both didn’t even notice a few hours already passed. Well, they say, if you don’t feel the time passing, you must be very happy. That was indeed true. After all, you decided to head back. As much as you wish this moment could last forever, you kept feeling sleepier with each moment. You insisted on helping him clean the place, but he assured you not to worry about it. The novelist took your hand and leaded you to your dorm while gently caressing your palm. You couldn’t even feel the butterflies in your stomach anymore, yawn after yawn, your replies to him kept getting less specific and detailed.

Even the sunshowers peaking through windows couldn’t awake your senses. Orpheus whispered sweet nothings into your ears before nicely tucking you in, leaving the room after giving you a small peck on both of your cheeks. You had no idea that when he closed the doors, he instantly began completing his secret plan.

A performance.

Oh yes… few minutes after waking up you started slowly gaining consciousness again. You’re feeling awfully nasty after sleeping in your prettiest clothes, but it was all worth it, wasn’t it? One way or another, you got up and took a sip of water to ease your dry throat. You couldn’t help but notice a pink card laying on the table. It wasn’t there before. Picking it up, you noticed something strange - it’s an acting performance leaflet, a very fancy one too. Seems like it’s also been scented, the smell of vanilla is very refreshing. But who are the actors? As far as you remember, there are no actors in the manor… well… at least REAL actors… who would be performing? Surprisingly enough, the stage is marked for today, just in like… an hour? You felt actually intrigued - the information given were too vague to figure the theme out, until… hold on! Looking at the bottom of the card, you notice it stating that there’s a special invitation… on top of that, you’d recognize this handwriting everywhere.

You quickly connected the dots. The small description talking about the plot of this play is strangely similiar to one of your boyfriend’s novels. He specifically mentioned he based the main characters on him and you. The realization hits you almost instantly. Orpheus brought one of his novels to life for your birthday. Jesus. You frantically started putting on some elegant clothing, making a huge mess in your wardrobe at the same time. We’ll take care of that later. Either way, seems like Orpheus carefully considered every possible obstacle, as you waking up too late, for example. Just when you were about to decide which shoes to wear, you heard knocking on your door. Strangely, when you opened it, no one was standing in front of them. Or so it seems?

🎣

🐟 Orpheus would send Robbie to lead you to the event. He didn’t specify the place where the performance will be happening. He’s got it all planned.

🐟 The axe boy is wearing a small, green suit with a red bow tie. He looks adorable!

🐟 Robbie doesn’t waste any time and keeps pointing at the huge grandfather clock to remind you to hurry. When you’re ready, he holds your hand and begins to lead you. You have to keep leaning so you can reach his hand. Feels uncomfortable to bend this way, but hey, at least now you know where to go.

🐟 To be frank, you were convinced the stage will be placed somewhere in the manor, but little did you know. You gave Robbie a confused stare when he kept walking towards a forest. His silence wasn’t helping you, either. You wouldn’t complain that much if you knew what’s coming next. Your heart nearly dropped when instead of avoiding that one scary cave, you were forced to enter it. Are you getting abducted?

🐟 You decided to not question Robbie anymore, however, you really wanted to. When you saw that the particular corridor you were in was divided by a huge underground lake. In order to get to the other edge, you had to use the boat. What’s worse, you noticed two silhouettes already standing on it. Robbie kept leading you there. Closer and closer. My God. It’s over.

🐟 While entering the boat, you’ve already repeated a few prayers in your mind and apologize to everyone who’s been ever hurt by you. But, to your surprise, the two new faces were actually very, VERY familiar. The man holding the oars was wearing a long cape. Yet, when he turned around, everything clicked. It was all Orpheus’ plan. Turns out the scary and mysterious man who was about to get rid of you for good was Naib himself. And his companion? The man holding the old map knowing the best places to hide you in? No other than Jose.

🐟 Robbie paid Naib with chocolate money. When the cruise began, Jose started to act like a real officer and kept ordering Naib. He seemed very annoyed. You’re sure he owed Orpheus something serious, because there’s no way he’d agree to this without anything in reward.

🐟 You all continued walking after arriving to the second end of the lake. Later on, you were approaching a huge, open area. The only trouble was that, sadly, the light couldn’t reach there. It was all dark, yet Jose encouraged you to go further.

🐟 You began taking small steps, at the same time noticing that the boys are standing behind you. You almost felt like they’re sacrificing you for some ancient deity. You’re heart was again beating like crazy, until light suddenly filled the entire place.

🐟 Your heart dropped, but this time because of the wonderful sight. To your surprise, this scary cave had a small theater inside! It was filled with decorations and most importantly, with other survivors and hunters from the manor. Everyone rushed to wish you a happy birthday!

🐟 The only person you didn’t see yet was Orpheus. That will change soon. Jose led you to the theater seats. He specifically made sure that you arrive to the VIP one. Shortly after, everyone took their seats, except a few people. You assumed they were hired to be the actors.

🐟 The show finally started. It began with Orpheus and his speech about his play as well as his partner’s impact on it. You felt absolutely moved. When the story started, he was the one narrating it. It contained so much references only you and him could understand. Some scenes were even based on real events. You felt absolutely touched by his gesture.

🐟 When Orpheus falls, he falls hard.

First of all i’m sorry for the random fic-hcs mashup i’m aware this is rushed but i sadly don’t have time yet i really wanted to do something on your birthday 😔😔 i HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT DAY!!!! LOVE YOU!!!

#idv #identity v #idv x reader #orpheus #idv orpheus #orpheus x reader #identity v x reader #idv hcs #idv novelist